A slightly different post from my previous one. This is based on a regular visitor to our garden (Sally has even installed a camera to keep tabs on him), who I have also seen sitting in our gateway a couple of times...
Returning home
Returning home
I see that strange grey dog
is guarding my gateway again.
But as the headlights hit him,
before turning his back,
I glimpse those two tell-tale,
matte black paint stripes
daubed on his dirty white muzzle.
Then he turns and waddles away
in his baggy, tweed trousers,
leaving this leafy, middle-class
interface with an unsleeping city,
shuffling and snuffling his way
along a damp, woody corridor,
between carefully coiffured gardens,
returning home.
But as the headlights hit him,
before turning his back,
I glimpse those two tell-tale,
matte black paint stripes
daubed on his dirty white muzzle.
Then he turns and waddles away
in his baggy, tweed trousers,
leaving this leafy, middle-class
interface with an unsleeping city,
shuffling and snuffling his way
along a damp, woody corridor,
between carefully coiffured gardens,
returning home.
Selah
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