a poem by Dr. Debora B. Wisneski
Sitting by an open window on a
late spring evening,
cool damp air hovers just inside
the screen as it touches my skin.
At a distance, the hum of the city is
The neighborhood is still.
Then a dog barks.
A car passes on the street-
rubber hits the grooves of the road
and a steady bump-bump
bump-bump of the tires goes by.
I know I will be moving
where I will sit by a window
and listen to the hum
of a new city, the barks of other
dogs, and the bump-bump of
other car tires.
Hoping I’ll be home.