Morning Walk

I grumble when I rise

in this new routine I find

of having to leash the dogs

and head outside.

No more opening doors

having always been free to explore

and do their business

without any help of mine.

So on the leashes go

before the coffee brews

and out into the narrow streets

now home.

Smoke from chimneys hovers low

the smell of it

lifts spirits below

while pleasant thoughts soon rise

with the early sun.

And on we wend

through the aged, shadowed alleys

past tiny cars and crumbling walls

by well-fed, feral cats and barking dogs

who hear our jingly approach

and let it be known to all.

Life behind the shutters

has begun to stir

and the sounds of life within

all heard

dissuade me from feeling too alone

while my husband wraps things up

where once was home.

Passing walls of gathered stone

and garden patches in verdant rows

the dogs seek out every, single smell

while continually adding their own.

Happy to be lost in the ancient grid

of unworked fields and olive trees

of derelict lots

and well-tended hearths

I have little worry

of my place on earth

and finding our way back

to anticipated treats

to coffee

and to home.