walking in the morning

Each morning,
as my dog son and I greet the day with a jaunt up our block,
we normally see
stars, cars and yards.

Some days
we hear
traffic on the main road,
leaves crunching underfoot
or a siren in the distance.

Sometimes I imagine the taste of my first cup of coffee, smell stale cigarettes near some one's car or daydream about how good it would feel to crawl back into my bed.

Today though,
my senses were shocked at what they were processing.

Across the street,
halfway down my block
sat something wonderful.

... a little house,
all by itself...

I heard my sigh at the sight of it next to the curb,
and felt it's sturdy frame.

While I did not taste or smell the object,
I had enough information to grin widely.

I don't know how it works where you live,
but here in my town.
Leaving furniture on the curb over night is a signal that you no longer wish it to be yours.
Most generally the furniture is broken.
Knowing this,
it was with tentative steps that I hopefully moved in for a better look.
I checked the little dear home over.
Except for crayon love,
a few bits of stickers and one or two scuff marks,
it is completely fine.
Structurally it is whole.
The cosmetic imperfections...
easy enough to remedy.

I don't normally pick things out of the, "trash"...
but then again...
I've never seen a four foot home on the curb.

Yup...
I got it back...
and
yes...
it was heavy...
I can not wait to clean it up and think about it a bit.
sigh...
I wish you a very good Thursday morning...
May your day be blessed.