I saw him walking down the sidewalk
Thin as a rail
In a trench coat and
A fedora pulled
Down over his eyes
A throwback to the seedy
New York I never knew.
A dog followed behind him
This slow trot of stringy blonde hair
Drool slipping out the side of his
Mouth, looking up adoringly,
His most loyal companion --
Not the thousands of people
He has led through the desert
(forty years of wind and sun)
Not the thousands
Who have been healed by his touch
(listened to him speaking in tongues)
Crying and pulling at his robes to salve their
Aching feet and chapped lips
Only this dog with the power of all ten thousand gods.
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