Dogging — A Poem

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“Dogging” — C.Birde, 6/19

 

She dogs

(literally)

my heels.

Small paws click

across the floor

in hopes of telltale sign

(she reads between

the lines)

of her aim.

We could walk forever

(figuratively)

and not satisfy

her need

to explore those clumps

of grass and slants of

broken curb we’ve visited

before.

I understand —

habituated to routine and

self-made grooves,

I am grateful of her insistent,

pleading

(anthropomorphized…?)

stare.

At leash’s end,

she leads me

(freely)

out,

around,

and everywhere.

 

— C.Birde, 6/19

 

Capriccio — A Poem

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“Josie” — C.Birde, 9/17

 

 

tiktik

tika

tik –

Staccato click

of claws

on gravel, grass, stone.

Clink and jingle

of tags,

oval and oblong;

steel burnishing

brass.

Metronomic wag

of tail.

Four fleet feet,

a scant ten pounds,

she sets a lively pace

and pulls me

 — up —

the MoUnTaIn.

 

 

— C.Birde, 9/17

 

Dog Tail — A Poem

There was a little dog

who had a curl of tail

right at the base of her spine.

And when she was bad

she was naughty as could be

But when she was good, she was just fine.

 

She enjoyed a good long walk —

up the mountain, round the block —

where’ere her pointed paws might wander.

And when she had found

some curiosity,

that curl of tail would still, that she might ponder.

 

All chores she would attend

in unrelenting fashion —

from window, porch and door and garden.

But come evening’s fall,

darkness pressed to every pane,

The nearest lap she’d seek to curl that tail in.

 

–C.Birde

(With apologies to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

 

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“Dog Tail” — C.Birde