a desolate day
of the widest grey
and looming rain
a slight gust
coming in short thursts
not enough to pick
a leaf or flick
even the greyest sky
so the dog comes running
to its locked up fence
to bark away
its deepest regrets
to a world unlistening
a world only visiting
the dog is still unrest
lonely barks
in absent parks
all in vain
in our desolate day