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.