Almost a Conversation

There is a woman
Who sits alone at her table next to her picture window
And eats breakfast –
Like most of us –
But this woman lingers
Over poached eggs
Keeps vigil over buttered toast
Ponders two pork links
Recalling every morning the one love
With whom she was linked for so long

She waits and watches over her backyard
Glancing through the hedge
Peering onto the public trail
Where I walk my dogs nearly every day
On one such day I looked up and saw her
In her comfy robe
A practical hair net
And, I imagine, well-worn house slippers
Then, out of nowhere
She heroically crossed the infinite distance between us
And waved
Just like that
No grand gesture
Waved the wave and smiled the smile of someone
Who knows another human being when she sees one

It has now become our ritual –
She and I, and perhaps countless others –
To see and to smile and to wave
Just like that
Not knowing each other’s name nor story
Not needing to
Just looking through both sides of a window
And acknowledging
I see you there