all the miracles

be careful there is a dog

underneath, she warns

as i slide in, the long table

at the cafe that has become

my new poetry home

and just as i'm about to

say i love dogs, i see

a frenetic deep pumpkin

red tail that could only

belong to a golden

his name is joey, she says

and instantly i'm scratching

his belly and behind his

ears and start to feel a

bit weepy and tell her

about our riley who loved the

world and believed the

world loved him

when did he pass?she asks,

and i tell her he's still alive

but we gave him to an

elderly couple before we

moved

but it was for the best,

he was such a caring dog

and the wife has m.s.

then it's her turn to tear

up and she tells me her

husband recently died

of m.s. and i say i'm sorry

and she talks about joey

and how he helped her

convalesce

then we segue to kids

here and there and

career and what to do

with greying hair and

how that umbilical cord

never truly disappears

we just get better at

consoling ourselves with

silence and space, that

always smashes a bit

the tenderest parts

i'll let you get back to

your...

poetry

and she asks why i

write and i say, it's

how i make sense of

being here

and she nods and shares

her escapist fantasy to

portugal with joey and

her two daughters and

their partners, if things

get any worse

let's go to portugal! i

say and open up my

computer

11:11! i exclaim, not

sure if she's into the

whole numbers thing

my husband speaks to

me in 3's

i quote einstein that  

everything is a

miracle or nothing

is a miracle

and she says i'm

a miracle and i

say she's a miracle

she says it's time to

go and i give joey

one last belly rub

and bid her goodbye

and sit with my

coffee and drink

it in, all the miracles