Walking the dog, down the same sidewalk we take every night, back home. Down the side street that forms a T with the main street that we walk along a grey Chrysler, windows tinted, rolls, slowly, up to the intersection about ten yards too far back and comes to a complete stop. The green Lexus is parked in the usual spot on the side of the street, about thirty yards in front of me. Somehow I catch a glimpse of headlights way down the street, passed the crest of the hill. The Chrysler creeps forward, next to the stop sign and stops again. Headlights and the faint sound of a blistering engine begin to crest the hill. The Chrysler creeps forward and angles for a left turn, nearly into the street. I see it all in my mind, yet I keep walking toward it. I see the T-bone, and the aftermath play out in a millisecond. My angle never changes no matter how slow or fast I walk, I’m always going to be right in the path -the rollover, slamming into the green Lexus, glass shattering… hopefully everyone has their seat belts on. Does it matter how fast the Chrysler pulls out? or is it like hitting a baseball? In the same instant that he begins to turn he stops short and the Jeep flies passed. No time to check if seat belts are fastened.

the taste of canned green beans
in my nose


Either this dog is getting old or he’s just gotten used to the sunshine and warm nights. Taking a leisurely approach to sniffing for bugs and new growth. Sniffing  for evidence of change. He’s forgotten what it was like to have to hoof it back home in the rain. He’s forgotten how rain patter on leaves can fool you into looking over your shoulder, looking into the shadows of bushes and trees. No moon, only clouds and… no stopping for glances to the heavens. Not tonight.  He’s had it too easy, he’s become soft. Change, though, is in the air. The cool breeze tickles the leaves and soon we’ll fall.


What am I in such a rush for?

caught between the undeniable

inertia that grips me and the

desire to plow forward.