The Reddish Dog

A hundred or so homeless are outside the window of the lodge.

They sort of form together to get food, but first they must listen

while the mayor or someone tells them a lesson. I look away.

On the ledge above the window are a bunch of Salish crows

or maybe they’re children, it’s hard to tell. Some of them

wear cedar masks. I speak to them in a crow imitation

that comes out, “Hah.” I have the sound right but there’s

no meaning to it. I don’t seem to know that crow language

has words hidden inside the sound. One of the children

up there looks at the others and says, “Hah.” I leave there

and cross a street running like a river to a parking lot

on the other side. There’s an opened-up abandoned car.

Something is moving in a paper bag. At first it’s a cat

but it becomes a reddish dog. It looks so hopeless

and forgotten and hungry. I pet the sad eyed dog

and comfort it and tell it I’ll be right back

as I wake up.