Dustbunny limped down the street where Titmouse lived. He came to a stop in front of her apartment. Two little girls were sitting on the cement steps in front of her apartment. Both looked down at his weak leg, one whispered to the other and they both giggled. Securely holding on to the rail, Dustbunny executed the painful and embarrassing climb up to Titmouse's front door and rang the bell.
He could hear Titmouse coming to the door.
"Hi," she said, a little out of breath.

"Hey... I haven't heard from you in a while so I thought I would walk over and see how you are doing."
"I'm fine," replied Titmouse, "I've kinda been busy."
"Would you like to go get an ice cream or something?" Dustbunny shifted weight onto his bad leg for a moment. He could hear the little girls giggling again. He flushed.
"Yeah. Let me get ready, I'll be right out." Titmouse left Dustbunny with the porch, the handrail, his bad leg and the giggling girls.
She came back to the door quickly, however, with a sweater draped over her arm. She took Dustbunny's hand softly in hers, shooed the girls from off the porch and they walked slowly down to the road.

This evening every type of cloud was
thinly spread in the Autumn orange haze.
The field, with wet and closing womb
lamented it's eternal lord and sun
falling incrementally from the sky
and the wind and the rain
erased every line
I had carved in the soil.