You stand there simply waiting.
Hoping no-one tries to chat,
And interrupt your contemplating.
Thoughts arrive of lots of things,
Such as 'How much is the fare?'
And how long will you have to wait,
Until the bus is there?
But this one time was different,
All those thoughts were off.
Because of the untimely presence,
Of a stranger's dog.
The dog came down the road,
Looked at me and woofed.
And an old lady next to me asked,
'Is this your dog, love?'
It wasn't mine of course,
I can barely care for myself.
Let alone something smaller,
That needs a bit more help.
Anyway, the bus came,
And I got on it as you do.
Never did see that dog again,
Not sure why I wrote about it, are you?
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| It was not this type of dog. |