Concrete Wait

Saw him by the bus stop again.

Scruffy thing, tail low.

He watches, waiting, now and then

giving his tail a slow

thump against the cracked concrete.

Like he knows my face.

Ignores the other feet

marching past this place.

He just plants his muddy paws,

stares up at my shoes.

Breaks all the natural laws

of dogs, with nothing to lose

but a moment, if I’d just stop,

let him rest his head on my lap.