The dog had been feeling his age,
and curled up at the man’s feet,
feeling the heat of the shrinking sun.
The early morning light
had that brazen quality to it
that seems typical
of early autumn,
or the flames of Natraj’s Circle.
The fog shimmered down the harbour,
granting a lover’s caress
to the willing shore.
The dog thought of dinner time,
and favourite scents,
and pack.
The old man thought of the different dimensions
vibrating at the quanta level,
making us tenants
in Realities that we cannot yet see.