Washing Away

The rain has come and the rain has gone,
Washing away all the joys of the world.
The playground is sodden and filthy,
Sad little children shuffle past.
Heads down, glancing sideways.
Their laughter will unsung this day.
They march on towards homework,
That Great executioner of youthful glee.

The rain has come and the rain has gone,
Washing away all the joys of the world.
The old dog mopes at the window,
Lonely and fearful of distant thunder.
The days walk had been abandoned.
Now she can only lay here waiting,
And hoping,
The child will come home soon.

 

 

 

Happy Monday

 

 

Blind Dog, Barking Dog.

One morning, as I walked along, I heard a dog barking. It was an incessant, aggravating bark. When I approached the yard I saw him standing on his porch. He just stood there looking out at the road barking a constant uninflected cadence.

I turned to walk on and then I saw, sitting beyond the pickets that bordered the property, a blind dog. Eyes sewn shut, living in a world of smells, and sounds. It sensed my passing and turned its head to face me, following me as his companion’s barks echoed all around.

I was struck by the thought of the loneliness of living in darkness like the blind dog. I left wondering if the one dog barked to let the other know it was not alone.

Probably not. That barking dog was probably just an asshole.