Crickets

We brought my daughter home to a noisy four plex next to the railroad tracks. 

She made me appreciate our home. 

I thought living by the railroad tracks was awful, 

the train would go by and shake our whole house.

I needed my little girl to teach me that it was awesome

“The train, daddy!” she’d hollar

And we’d rush to the porch in our pajamas

And watch the trains go by

She’d call out the name of each car

Both the descriptive name, 

Hopper, engine, boxcar

But also their proper first names

Thomas, Spencer, Percy

We went from living next to the track

To having train front property

From there we moved to a duplex

Next to two freeways, and a busy street

With a big hospital

The train noise replaced

By the constant presence of helicopters

Police and ambulance sirens

Cruisin’ Impala’s with booming sound systems

And within this cacophony she found music

And she’d add her voice

The neighbors coming to know her as

The kid who sings

We continued our pattern

finally moving to a home of our own

A one plex

According to our postal address we were still in the city

But we were off the numbered and alphabetized grid

Only one numbered street reached out to us

Like a tentacle from the noisy city center keeping us connected

And it was quiet

my first night in my new bedroom

I heard the crickets

I delighted to realize

I’d final gotten my little girl to a place peaceful enough

For her to hear nature’s nocturnal symphony of chirps

And as I smiled to myself, 

I heard her yell from her room

“SHUT UP, CRICKETS!”