This Poem For You

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.