At the Sink

At the Sink

The dog makes a ghost
on the door of the house

whose back patio presses up
to the fence that splits

our spaces The dog makes
a ghost by breathing

on the door from both sides
while waiting to return

or wanting to be outside
Whenever I see the neighbors

they are doing the same thing
A man and a woman

across from one another
at an island Maybe just one

The woman in her nightgown
or the man reading a newspaper

with the straw-colored dog
in front of the shadow marking

so clearly what he wants
I wonder about seeing the sameness

of their days and know that
for them I must be the woman

at the sink This is not disappointing
Maybe this is a way to dip into

the eternal or the meaningless beauty
of images A dog on either side

of the glass A ghostly dog within
the glass The faucet’s graceful neck