On the Stairs
There was someone climbing the alley stairs slowly in the morning. Beside them, an old dog moved its feet at the same pace. The dog paused briefly at every step as if to catch its breath, and the person paused to that rhythm too. Watching them climb like that, resting as they went, my own steps slowed a little. It seemed all right to arrive late. When they began to walk slowly on again at the top of the stairs, I was still standing down below.
It was an afternoon when the rain marks not yet dry at the edge of the shade, and the sound of an old leash somewhere off, all fell in step with my slowing pace.
This morning I too saw an old man at the bus stop, slowly sitting down and standing up. While he boarded the bus, I was still standing in place.
After stopping at the mouth of the alley, I watched the sun shift to the height of the shoulders of an old man walking some way ahead. Perhaps I was walking at the same pace, for our shadows stretched on in a long line.