A restless Lily trots after my heels.
Surely she senses the warm air outside,
the teasing breeze resembling summer,
the breeze our small town can sense just as well.
I give in and take her on a lead,
guiding us to the sidewalks.
The sun hides behind a gentle mass of clouds,
blue, casting everything in a comforting azure hue.
Her ears flop with each buoyant step.
For a dog of seven years, her energy has aged little.
As she pants and searches and sniffs, nose pressed into the budding grass,
I watched. I listened. I observed.
Warm weather brings a town to life.
A man mounted on a motorcycle roared down the street.
In his wake were a pair of boys,
one black and one white.
The boys were mounted on little bikes,
young bony knees pedaling faster and faster, as one shouted,
"Come on!" and the other,
"This is so cool!"
They followed the motorcycle man,
watching him fill his tires,
illuminated by violet lights,
at the gas station.
The boys rested their own little bikes,
watching the man with curious, swiveling heads.
Eyes filled with longing,
they watched as the motorcycle roared away once again.
One day, they thought.
Our bikes will grow to be just like his.
Along the busy street beyond, a little sports car puttered
A rusty old truck whipped out of a driveway.
Couples rested upon their steps and porches,
watching the town just as I was.
Lily rounded a corner to see a pair,
boy and girl.
A mitt in hand,
the boy threw a chalk white baseball to his little sister.
Children, being the fascination of any dog,
excited Lily to wiggle and eagerly pant her way over to them.
Lily took it upon herself to greet them, much to the little girl's delight.
She giggled, nose red, asking for Lily's name.
Lily gave her a wet kiss, as if saying,
"You don't need to know my name; just love me!"
The boy, seeing that his sister was enjoying himself,
allowed her to indulge in Lily for a little while longer.
He excused her silly stories about their own dog,
and made sure that she said "Thank you for letting me pet your doggy!"
We rounded a corner again.
Back home we went, hearing the sound of sirens behind us.
A homeless man with a garbage bag of clinking items in front of us.
A smoking man to the left of us.
It was a sobering reminder:
While warm weather was pleasant,
the world's woes do not just stop for a summer breeze.
Lily's walk ended,
as did my look-around of our small town.
Under the gentle glow of our house's lights,
I peered out at the evening world beyond.
Another family, walking their little dog.
Perhaps they'd have even more sights to see.
Surely she senses the warm air outside,
the teasing breeze resembling summer,
the breeze our small town can sense just as well.
I give in and take her on a lead,
guiding us to the sidewalks.
The sun hides behind a gentle mass of clouds,
blue, casting everything in a comforting azure hue.
Her ears flop with each buoyant step.
For a dog of seven years, her energy has aged little.
As she pants and searches and sniffs, nose pressed into the budding grass,
I watched. I listened. I observed.
Warm weather brings a town to life.A man mounted on a motorcycle roared down the street.
In his wake were a pair of boys,
one black and one white.
The boys were mounted on little bikes,
young bony knees pedaling faster and faster, as one shouted,
"Come on!" and the other,
"This is so cool!"
They followed the motorcycle man,
watching him fill his tires,
illuminated by violet lights,
at the gas station.
The boys rested their own little bikes,
watching the man with curious, swiveling heads.
Eyes filled with longing,
they watched as the motorcycle roared away once again.
One day, they thought.
Our bikes will grow to be just like his.
Along the busy street beyond, a little sports car puttered
A rusty old truck whipped out of a driveway.
Couples rested upon their steps and porches,
watching the town just as I was.
Lily rounded a corner to see a pair,
boy and girl.
A mitt in hand,
the boy threw a chalk white baseball to his little sister.
Children, being the fascination of any dog,
excited Lily to wiggle and eagerly pant her way over to them.
Lily took it upon herself to greet them, much to the little girl's delight.
She giggled, nose red, asking for Lily's name.
Lily gave her a wet kiss, as if saying,
"You don't need to know my name; just love me!"
The boy, seeing that his sister was enjoying himself,
allowed her to indulge in Lily for a little while longer.
He excused her silly stories about their own dog,
and made sure that she said "Thank you for letting me pet your doggy!"
We rounded a corner again.
Back home we went, hearing the sound of sirens behind us.
A homeless man with a garbage bag of clinking items in front of us.
A smoking man to the left of us.
It was a sobering reminder:
While warm weather was pleasant,
the world's woes do not just stop for a summer breeze.
Lily's walk ended,
as did my look-around of our small town.
Under the gentle glow of our house's lights,
I peered out at the evening world beyond.
Another family, walking their little dog.
Perhaps they'd have even more sights to see.
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