the neighbor

in the morning
i see her leave for
work.
no dog, no kid,
no husband. not a
soul passes in and out
of her house.
she carries her
trash to the corner
then takes her
briefcase to catch
the bus. she waves,
she smiles.
but there is no us.
we rarely speak
except to say, it's cold,
it's hot, it looks
like rain. this is how
it is and how it will
remain. which is
neither good nor bad.
just is.