A woman online wrote about her dog,
but it strikes me that Chance, that old trickster,

is our lifelong dance partner, from our
smallest selves wiggling to music as toddlers

to our oldest incarnations learning to maneuver
with a cane, looking down as we walk

instead of up at the sky as we have long loved
to do. We dance with Chance every chance

we get, hoping that we don’t fall, that an
opportunity will arise that lands in our favor,

that by happenstance we might find
ourselves, as this woman did: as summer

officially gives way to autumn on a favorite
beach, her dog’s paws impressing damp

sand, recording each step of his ecstatic,
bounding, soon-to-be-washed-away path.

May all our dances with Chance be like that:
ones of pure, tail-wagging joy.

•••

(for Amrita Skye Blaine)

(with thanks to Crystal Ellison and Chance
for the inspiration)