Shirley Limbert

city vignette 1

a dog howls as rain, like sheets of silver
flattened under the jewelers roller, falls silently
clouds dark and low veil distant mountains
linden trees become chinese paintings
branch and leaf
hangs ghostlike in the still air.

in the city
fingers of fog cling to lampposts blurring their yellow light
a form creeps door to door avoiding
the downpour, his garbage bag raincoat glistens
dog slinks behind head down, tail between legs
no longer vocal simply disconsolate
man and dog survey the empty street
round a corner a car black and white like his life
screeches to a halt
two uniforms jump out crowd him inside
raindrops spray from tires as they speed away

wet dog waits patiently on the foggy curb