A black wet dog appears from nowhere
with glaring eyes of insanity.
It changes his mood, he starts to fear
the dark takes him forever.
A face that he can’t seem to remember
reminds him of the slippey stones.
A chilly wind says proceed.
Another says he’s finished.
Now there is nothing left for him.
Now everything is gone.
In unfitting shoes in late November
he hears the sound of an ambulance.
He starts to move, he starts to run
convinced they’re out to get him.