Winter Mornings

I pull the front door shut and step out into the brisk air. 

I quickly find a cadence as we make our way down the street. 

The work day has begun for most, leaving the houses shut and quiet. 

Trash cans line the streets like sentries at their post. 

Clouds blanket the sky, 

softening the landscape to a neutral gray.

 Birds greet us, 

rejoicing the day that has begun. 

The rhythmic stride of my step and jangle of collars sing us a tempo. 

Dogs announce our passing in tones of alto and baritone. 

We pass the lonely houses that wear traces of life overflowing. 

Tricycles and beach balls lay abandoned. 

Rakes and half filled wheelbarrows wait their turn. 

Wind chimes sing our their tireless tune. 

And we pass by unnoticed in the winter morning solitude.