Passing through

I sit nearby. I hear their feet rustling in the semi-darkness. And then they’re swallowed by the swift rumbling of the vehicle. I sense the entrance, the trespass of wind in between the spaces of similarly shaped and colored leaves. And then the stillness descends to calm the crown of the tree. I see their eyes rolling up to look at the contrast between the freedom of blue sky and the vertical might and shine of buildings. And then they look down to settle back in their habitual walk and talk. I walk with them. But I don’t open my mouth. My eyes fall upon the flash of the circular green light. I walk alone to get to the other side. And then I’m gone.