Wake Up Time
It's not so much that it walked down an alley that was dark as much as that alley was just gone. It winded itself back around the shops and liquor stores and set down to die. It hadn't seen the sun or felt the wind in so long that it became scared of the things that made flowers grow and people smile. There weren't any more days running bare-back in the sun with a shaken mane and an arrowed stance. There was only a shadow curling up with it like a blanket made of wet leaves and stagnant fur. Brushed sharply but only up went the cover. It landed right back down like a known friend on a flamed elbow. The blanket found the same position with a sense of togetherness. It shrugged and waited for the sun to tell it a story it could understand.
Most things are lost because you just refuse to fight for them.
