Conversations Among the Ruins

There isn't
anything better.

She can walk
like a big girl now,
on her pink leash,

matching her pink
collar. Her brilliant
red coat

shines in the sun.

I live in a small
town and I walk
my dog in the sun

on afternoons
before work.

I swear sometimes
it's all I've ever
wanted.

The lunching ladies
at the small cafes
on the busy street

cluck over her.
An old man in a
trucker cap and

aviator shades

eating a banana
split on the sidewalk

smiles a crooked smile
as we pass.

Another old man
says to me

"Your jeans
are about broken
in"

(They have fifteen
holes)

We pass the hotel
and visit with Sandy,
an extraordinary

woman we see
most mornings

and by the
police station
Penelope lets out

a low
"Woof" at the policemen
that are kneeling
down to pet her.

We visit with the
alley cats that follow us
with aloof curiousity

and I almost drop
my coffee from the
cafe

a number
of times.

Small children
run up to us,

cars stop when we
cross the street and
the people inside of them

smile
the way that I used to
at others

when I thought I
could never be
so simple.

So

happy.