Rushing four-legs: “[Hello-headrub]!”
S/hetheyit brushes ‘gainst the painted-metal
(furnishing, with its flakesome white,
the courtyard) in the rain.
The peaks of the cottage-layers roof
about in slopes of slatetile smooth;
beigewhitegrey stonebricks wallstand,
drainpiped ‘n window-holed.
“Slappatter-pitter waterrise.”
So says the rain – firm; unurgent.
“Fifteen minutes since we last tolled!”
So the Bells Of Belligerence.
The squares that make th’yard’s walksurface
shine slippy in their smoothness.
M’yandering four-paws not-rushes
t’brush ‘is/’ers/its back again.
Gate slatted woodenly, slight arch
arising middleslope ‘n creamwhite
splitting swinging in ‘n open;
closing out ‘n back.
The cat ascends the mossful stairs;
the rain descends the skyway.
The chairs ‘n table furnish still
the courtyard of the cottage.
william altoft 