Sitting by my window,
i see a black dog
with patches of white
on its face.
Not once. Not twice,
but many times.
And as it runs ahead
i see its owner
walking gingerly
behind it.
Many are the dogs
around me, but
this one dog i know
not for anything
but the way it introduces
its owner.
with a bark. And a jump
and the careful way
the owner shows up
after it.
Away from my window
now on the street where i live
i first see the dog. And it’s owner
an elderly Black woman
with a red beret and a grey walking stick
counting her steps as she
plods along behind her dog
i look in her face and she in mine
and we both say our hellos
and we say many more hellos
when we see ourselves many more times
a knowing between us
perhaps a friendship
yet to be explored
And yes,
each time i see her
walking along
i see her dog first
prancing ahead
his usual introduction