Dogs in the Rain

On a rainy day while stuck in the house two dogs catch the eye of Marcus.

The clouds hung low, a steely gray,
As morning bled into the day.
Along the lane where willows weep,
Two dogs stirred from their restless sleep.

A mutt with patches, bold and spry,
And one old hound with a weathered eye.
No collar shone, no leash or chain,
Just freedom, wind, and soft refrain.

The first drops fell on dusty ground,
A whisper first, then drumming sound.
The world grew hushed beneath the storm,
As shadows blurred and lost their form.

Through puddles deep and rivulets wide,
They raced, those dogs, with equal stride.
Their fur grew slick, their noses high,
They howled beneath the weeping sky.

Young Marcus looked on through window glass,
His hand pressed flat as moments pass.
He smiled to see the joyful pair,
Two ghosts of freedom in the air.

A car drove past with hurried speed,
Its tires hissing through the reed.
The mutt leapt high, the old dog veered,
Then vanished down the path they steered.

No names were called, no words were said,
No worries fed or hunger dread.
Just dogs in rain, with hearts unbound,
Running roads where none are found.

And when the storm gave way to sun,
And golden threads through gray were spun.
Marcus stepped out, the grass still wet,
And hoped he’d see those two dogs yet.

But only pawprints marked the lane,
Fading signs in the softening rain.