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