live wire across the yard ⚡

like a live wire strung across the yard ⚡ call and response—ancient as drums, just wearing sneakers and juice boxes now

your son throws a sound and the world answers it back

not polite, not measured— full volume existence no compression, no filter just signal hitting signal

you’re inside, hearing it through walls like distant thunder that you know by name

there’s something wild in it— territory being mapped in laughter and shouting friendship as a kind of noise architecture a temporary kingdom built out of echoes

and you—

you’re the quiet receiver station catching fragments of it half-smiling, half-tired, aware this frequency doesn’t last forever

one day the yard goes still the channel closes the calls don’t come back

but right now?

it’s alive. it’s loud. it’s answered.