“Correlation”

I see him
every Sunday.
My dog and I
always taking
our stroll.

Bustling,
with a cloth
in hand
he cleans
and scrubs
until the windows
and blue doors
of that car shine
like diamonds
in the summer
or sapphires
in the winter.

Every Sunday,
he hustles
around that car
as if it’s a high strung
girlfriend
instead
of a means
of transportation.

As if it isn’t
our day off.

This is all
I know about him

and I wonder,
if he treats his car
that attentively
how would he treat
a girl?

Jumping
over puddles
or meandering
in the shade
of the sidewalk,
I look for him

and I wonder.

It wouldn’t
be normal
to see that car
without him there.

I see him
every Sunday,
and I think,
he sees
me too.