yesterday, 
i was greeted by the moon herself in your driveway.
she left my palms damp with slobber in her wake
and i stood outside your front door,
feeling like a fraction, small but rightfully so
and across the street, adult chatter and laughter
rose and hovered, indistinct and comforting
i could hear your jazz seeping through the walls
a new alto saxophone, vibrato on the b flat 
gentle and clear and ever-so present
mixed with a crisp winter evening
the snowless ground tinted blue 
and my body felt opaque
with my newfound understanding
of whimsy, of existence 
of solace, of dogs 

and what i have been trying to say is,
how lucky i am to have learned
the fortune of being alive