The Dogs & I
Weave a mutable tapestry with orange
nylon once the color of fruit. Art’s tangled
palette chosen by inhaling the full depth
of Earth’s pigments. We savor the greens
that open life, skipping over the remnants
of shadows in this 3-way tug-of-joy
arriving at each turn tired and satisfied
ready to unravel the path home
Rosy
limbs splayed across yellow pine
she wags a white-tipped beacon
in a pool of golden light
plays with magic forgotten
pixie-dancing across shadows
joy-riding the ribbons of sun
Feeling nostalgic while going through my file of poems. I wrote this one in 2012 after watching my son and Daisy through the back windows.
A Boy and His Dog
She waits outside the door
dressed in a beard of dirt
The trenches have been dug
He grabs a plastic gun
packed with bullets of foam
Dons a red cap
studded with black spikes
A lizard-boy ready for battle
They trample thickets of hosta
evading bleeding hearts
as they flush danger with footsteps
She sniffs the air
ready to call the alarm
He takes aim
fires three shots
before they move again
I watch barricaded by windows
not wanting to trespass on pleasure
straining to hear the march
of their private song
The Light Behind the Story 