Neighbourliness - Sept 19 2022

 

Neighbourliness

Sept 19 2022

The neighbours

are far enough away

our paths rarely intersect.

Winters, though, are hard here,

and formal arrangements are made

for the long driveway we share,

all tight skittery bends

and steep slippery grades.

And on the rare occasions we pass

polite waves are exchanged,

squeezing by

on its narrow gravel surface.

But the dogs play.

Most mornings

they jauntily trot next door,

bee-lining through the trees

eager to start.

As if their schedule was set,

like kindergartners

heading off to school,

or housewives

to their regular coffee klatch.

The secret life of dogs,

who are indifferent to property

and always home for meals.

Who knows what they've been up to,

returning tired

with saliva-matted fur

and burrs in their coats,

muddy heads

smelling of dead animals.

On occasion, we chat amiably;

politics, sports

the weather, of course.

A fine balance

of neighbourliness, and distance;

but always here

in case we need help.

Like the time

they were kind enough to drive

me home from the hospital.

And inside the tinted glass

that had always blocked my view

I could see clearly out.

How odd, being inside this car

I'd never been in before;

where I could never truly tell

if anyone waved back

when we passed on the road,

taking for granted

that my distant neighbours

were also as close

as right next door.