Friday, 25 April 2014

The Dog In The Rain

The old dog sleeps in the yard
so far gone he doesn't wake
for the rain. Just lies in a dog shape:
droplets dribble the damp fur.

She stands at the kitchen sink.
Water runs silver from the tap.
She looks at the rain falling,
falling on the sleeping dog.

Hears the splash water thundering
in the sink, silver eye spiral
in the whirlpool of the plug hole.
Hears the rain falling. Turns it off.

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