On the knifes edge of gray
               sirens call out through the fog
the sound is everywhere
               yet always running away.

A dog barks
an angry snap to it – hunger
               the pads of its feet slap
heavy rain against the concrete
               if not for the nails scratching with every lift.

The siren is blaring
               it drowns out the dog
                              save for the scratching Thick fog like white darkness
I know not where to run
               Only that I must
                              to life – to death
my footfalls drown in the sound of that distant siren.