Quiet time for Izzy and me...

The quiet of a senior community,

Only the sounds of my foot steps,

and the jingling of her tags

The flap of an occasional flag,

the random garage door opening,

with very few cars,

The whistle of the wind,

The breeze against my sweaty brow,

as this tiny dog pulls me,

works me,

up the hills.

Time to myself to think,

to plan,

to wonder...

to be thankful,

for the company of this sweet canine,

who keeps turning back to look up,

at me,

her big brown eyes,

bright and shining

full of happiness

and joy...

A dancing leaf,

scampers by,

Quails flutter and peep

in nearby bushes,

This scruffy dog perks her ears

as our lone Harley rider

departs his rental.

as he considerately

and slowly,

rides by us

and waves...

Quiet time

for Izzy and me.