The dog lifts its eyes, wants
its place back. I shift
and offer it half of the gray
cement slab, cold this morning,
accented with white syllables of grass.
A few moments and the dog and I
suspire together, together with the breeze,
green, white, gray, the mottled man,
a drunkard, asleep.
The abandoned abbey shines.
Picture Nick Victor
Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/