Dog Days Poem by Stephen Brian Brady
Dog Days
at the railroad-crossing
music from the saloon
with only a stray dog for company
waiting to see
faces pressed against windows
as the train passes
a huddle of dark figures
on a pathway through the trees
from the crazed varnish of a winter-landscape
and dogs yapping at their knees
and even if they would
nowhere to hide
waiting for the conversation to subside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/28/2026 9:09:59 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
