Sally walks her dog black Lab tongue already hanging in July's rising heat. Strung across Brian's stair railing a broken spider web glimmers wit rainbow roads once trod, now abandoned. We sit on stoops, chat of furnaces and photos. Birds sing seeking mates. A train calls out warning as it passes through the City. My cat sits by the door, eyes lazily squinting, flicking her tail, teasing leashed dogs, tracking pigeons' flight. She jumps to the top of the armchair, stretches out. It's nap time again. I smile goodbye, go back inside for breakfast and tea and to write this poem for you. 7/14/21 8 a.m.