The gray sky is low, pushing down on me
as my dog and I sidestep puddles in our path.
A sense of sadness seeps onto me, settling
like heavy mist on a wool coat. 

Unexplainable loneliness rises up as though
from the rain-dampened earth and I am 
enveloped in a fog of… it almost feels like despair …
that I know is not my own. 

My dog, a double-coated spitz,
shakes his body in a spasm that 
sprays rain water off him in all directions.
My pants leg is flecked with tiny droplets.

Arriving home, I unbuckle his leash and dry him with a towel.
He shakes again and the moisture from his 
undercoat surfaces. I touch his fur; it’s as wet
as though I hadn’t wiped him down at all. 

If I were to sift my fingers through his thick coat
down to the skin, it would be dry and warm.
I, conversely, am cold and shivering and wet.
An involuntary shudder courses through me,

as my psyche tries to shake the melancholy
from my soul.