Their nails, click and clack on concrete and asphalt,
around the block away we go, traffic brings the wind
at face and fur, and sprinkles dust in our eyes.

Then, we get to the quieter side streets, shadows
deep as the Sun is low, but on the rise, rabbit
shapes look like grass clumps, lumps of brown
that hop quickly away and into the long sharp blades
of grass without a scream.

Small birds, flit and flap their wings, tempting a
game of "chase me" away from the nest into the
brambles, but both dogs are on leashes, and can't
go further, than their collars will let them.

Daily, street people , begin to move if they hard bed-
ded down for the night, the hospital gets ready for the
change in shifts, coffee shops open their locks , to
pour artificial sunshine into cups, if you don't like
it black, add milk or cream.

I need a vacation right now.