Walking to school
With my son
And our black lab
We meet at the intersection
Our crossing guard
A large African-American woman
Who, if the light is red,
Will bend down to pet the dog
And the dog will jump
To lick her face
And she will repeat
What she often says
That the dogs in this neighberhood
Are all so friendly,
So different from the dogs
In her part of town.
One day my son will ask
Why the dogs are different
And I still don't know how
I will answer him.
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