t was a small town, the type of place

Where everyone knew every face.

Where porch lights glowed like fireflies’ eyes,

And gossip drifted in lullaby skies.

The grocer knew your mother’s name,

The postman knew just why you came.

At dusk, the kids would chase the breeze,

While elders rocked with quiet ease.

The diner hummed a steady tune,

Eggs at dawn and pie at noon.

Laughter lived in coffee steam,

And dreams were brewed with heavy cream.

No secrets stayed for long in air—

A whispered thought was public prayer.

Yet somehow, wrapped in morning mist,

The heart still found its quiet twist.

For in a place so small, so still,

The world spun slow against its will.

But oh, how soft the evenings fell

Where everyone knew you—and wished you well.