Arts + Scene » Poetry

Good Dog



When she sees me

Her tail wags

It is the best

Hello of friendship

I have known

She does it everyday.


She likes to bury her head

In my chest

I like to lie my head

Upon her furry warmth

and quick heart

We rest.


She follows my lead

Defends my limbs

Coaxes me to play

I feed her, house her

Brush her snarled clothes

It is a bargain.


In spirit

I have seen

My lost and living friends

Howl my loss

Wag my joy

Love keeps its own counsel.


I know this ode

Is too honey-winged for flight

Too plodding to cast shadow

Too Monday to be born

Yet, I defend its truth

as old as rock and fire.

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