Your mother carried you
Out of the smoking ruins of a building
And set you down on this sidewalk
Like a doll bundled in burnt rags,
Where you now stood years later
Talking to a homeless dog,
Half-hidden behind a parked car,
His eyes brimming with hope
As he inched forward, ready for the worst.

Copyright © 2013 by Charles Simic. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on April 8, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.