in the window

the dog
sits near
her slippers,
near the window
staring out
waiting
for things to
change,
for a car to
pull up
bringing her
back home,
knowing
and not knowing
how the world
spins
outside of
his own short
life.
there is little
that he needs,
food, water,
affection.
a hand
on his warm
brown. the absence
of her
will fade,
one hopes, but
doubts.