By: Christine Jackson

Like you,
last night’s rain had moved on
leaving me stranded
in a dawn mist.
My terrier nudges me
into the day’s walk.

We pass a wrought iron fence
still coated with rain,
and a row of dripping hedges
soak my shoes.
Brushed treetops vanish
into the dappled halo cast
from a dimming street light.
I shiver.

The little dog tugs
at the leash
I hold wrapped around my fist.
Tail raised like a flag,
nose lifted,
he sniffs
the warm breath of earth.
I see only dead leaves
splayed on the pavement.