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