Dogs

I want to feel the breeze blowing passed the bustling streets and the trees

where the leaves shake like natural chimes,

leaving each moment with a space for beat.

Beneath the heat is a cool wind with a spirit made of music.

I sit alone

or atleast with a sense of loneliness and sorts.

The nights are long and restless.

The days are restless and short.

Rust builds to the left of me,

coating a public bbq pit.

To my right,

a tree leans over me

watching me write

and right before me is a white dog

sniffing around.

“Lost

or just finding yourself?”

We ask

one another.