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As he passes one house, he sees
An open door at its side and in
The rigid light the door casts a
Pale, shapeless object, as if in
Passing a stranger had made the
Place an offering, leaving it at
The boundary, before the portal.
The shape stirs, revealing itself
To be a bulldog, an albino, red
Around the eyes and gums, no
Collar about its grizzled neck,
Its ears ragged and scarred. He
Slows and stops, watching the
Animal pace wearily out of the
Light toward him, its tread even
And resigned. A few feet from
Him, it stops and seems to wait
For a command. It is darker in
The moonlight, its fur the blue
Of shallow water. Its eyes bear
Out miniature reflections of the
Moon and the stars. There is a
Film of liquid over its nose that
Is silver in the ambient light.
He begins to walk away down
The street. It stays where it is.