Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Sonnet #57

Lost dogs, lost dogs, they don't know how to go on
For what's use of dogs alone upon the boulevard
Perhaps upon a time they were wolves in packs, strong
Imagine their surprise to be alone, to stand it hard

I knew a woman once so lost in debt and pain
She stepped into a sidewalk, raised a thumb and left
She said it was her calling to travel and abstain
From all the futures all her debt was built to heft

Abandoned ones, they are too heartbroken to why discern
They walk the streets and forests to return what's lost
Aged five years in five months, her skin was burned
Leave out a bowl of clean, safe water, and the cost

of it all was counted against all abandonments
Walk tough from the houses, set loose all the hounds

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