Waves
Waves
Something I’ve lately noticed,
And it kind of makes me sore,
Folks out in the country,
Don’t seem to wave much anymore.
Now, I know what you might be thinking,
Sure, it could be they just don’t wave at me,
But I’ve paid attention riding with others,
And waves are now a rarity.
Has the country lost the kindness,
That it used to have?
If so can we fix it?
Is there a balm or salve?
Old pickups in passing,
One finger raised you’d see,
Of course you might get the whole hand wave,
From friends or family.
When passing folks a workin’,
In the garden or the yard,
They would most always wave at you,
And show you some regard.
Then you would return the favor,
To let them know you cared,
Perhaps to let them know you sympathized,
And the feeling at least, was shared.
Is it just the world we live in?
Is the rat race now too fast?
Could it be common curtesy,
Is now part of the past?
I hope that ain’t the case, sir.
I hope it just ain’t so,
But I have to say I miss the friendly place,
That I used to know.
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This hit me hard. I love reading your work. I am a multiurbanite who moved to the country a few years back for medical reasons. I was told, upon mentioning to someone here how my neighbors had not answered their doors or been in touch when I had made custom holiday giftboxes for each with invitations to my home, phone and address, that “Folks in the country like to be left alone. If you want to know your neighbors that’s when you move into the city.” That was so backward to the past or to my experience that it made me sad. Still does. And still alone. I’ve finally unplugged my phone for a year, tired of waiting for calls that never come, for decades, and it feels better. But I still wave, and I still check when anyone is working on their car, to see if they need anything. Thanks for sharing such a lovely tribute to the waves.