utside, the colors have fallen
winter is creeping still
in small reflective beads
the rain descends and
crashes upon rooftops
umbrellas and outstretched hands

inside, a radio plays jazz
the music lifts, sways
empty rooms embolden the sound
pleading, vaguely comforting
I am reminded of when we first arrived
when there was no arrangement, only anticipation

a wrinkled chin rests upon the base of the window
giving the impression of relevant sadness
a charitable tail wags at the sound of a name
Dutch, hey Dutch, Dutch
he would rather spend this time in silence
without lonely distractions

pacing, coffee in hand
I begin searching for a profound moment
A reason, a sign, a delicate goodbye
something to stitch together
all the fragmented faces racing in my head
Nothing permeates

Dutch looks over at me and sighs
he waits patiently for the sound of a rattling Volvo
for a clangy door to slam shut
for her to walk across the lawn smiling
her stomach showing evidence of miracles
I am too impatient to simply wait along with him

this evening the three of us will walk to the park
I’ll get to hold her hand as Dutch runs ahead
only to fall behind captured by some intriguing smell
We will sit, curled together beneath the tree
the one that still clings to its halloween oranges and speckled yellows
contrasting the gray redundant sky

my thoughts spin as I walk into the kitchen
worried about distance
both internal and external
I glance at an old picture trapped by a refrigerator magnet
and quickly turn my head
embarrassed that my eyes once looked so empty

it is then I hear that coveted sound
the crunch of embattled gears, a strained emergency brake
Dutch springs alive running in brief circles
I open the door and meet her just beyond the sidewalk cracks
where upon I kiss her forehead
thankful that my love has arrived