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Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Sounds Still Warm

(Ode to My Dog)

I still see you as
my wobble-legged puppy,
trying to follow me to school,
wet with rain, long hair pressed flat,
black eyes, shining coal
that I had mined
from the cage I'd found you in;

this heart warms, still,
in your running, drinking, eating,
though you run, drink and eat
no more, a sleeping succour's
chin on my foot warmed
by a gurrrr of security,
was a breath that cooled too quickly:

and though you took a walk without me,
without waiting for a final goodbye,
you are still my dog
and I am still your boy,
waiting for the new smells you'll bring,
and the songs you'll sing
to warm me still.

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