Sara’s hand

flutters at her waist


Shaking


ever so slightly

The dogs lunge against their fences

Some are barking


Some are snarling

Rover and Lulu and Ace

They see her going on her walk

Everyday, ever since they remember


always at 11

The night is dark and nobody is around


But that’s just how she likes it


Sara is getting old

She can sense it but


so can the dogs


and she dreads her shriveled skin
Once beautiful and lush

First she passes Rover’s house

Just four more to go

Then she passes Lulu’s
A street light
illuminates the path
dancing on the concrete


Finally she passes Ace’s house

and there is nowhere else to go

So she turns around to head



home
And she smiles