It had stopped raining, almost.
Only a few drops, from a wrung
Dish cloth of a cloud, dripped.
August empty streets only
A doleful, holiday abandoned,
Dog, was abjectly looking at its
Own reflection in a brown puddle.
When it saw me it wagged its tail,
Slowly, pleased to see someone,
Yet, fearful. I had a paper bag of
Bread crumbs meant for the ducks,
In the park’s pond. Threw it a few
Bits of a pizza, the dog cowed, ready
To run thought I was hurling stones.
Sniffed, than ate and asked for more.
Gave it the lot and a bit of chocolate.
Walked to the park, sat on a green
Bench admiring a couple of swans.
The dog sat nearby, watching me.
On my way home I stopped off at
A corner-shop, bought a tin of dog
Food; fed the cur, which full
Strolled back to its own street,
Where the dense, but loyal canine
Sat and waited for its owner to come
Home from his holiday in Spain.