The happiness in his eyes welled like sunrise
need no excuse to go out;
the bird's whistle
the leaves' rush
nudging - the wind through my coverlet
is perched by the window square as tuft
waiting patiently for hands to slow exhale.

Mon deebot debut-debut-debut

Deep into the wilds of a troubled heart
infinite ribbons along the sidewalk
vanished with the swoosh of his tail like a down feathered quill
an underbelly as soft as the moon
tickled; I felt whole and in bloom again
we'd who'd it to the dude
going for a dub-a-dut
sniffing every tree trunk and telephone pole
for the perfect pitch
to take a leak.

Speak
stopped abruptly mid-sentence
before language ever had a chance to latch on
to my sum-a-tut
my tub-a-luvin;
so many names I had for him
break dancing in mud bogs our intimate burble
O Lord who will companion my garden? now

I survey beauty and sift through it
a forest of trilliums; it is not enough
to say I will miss the river; sticks
flew with a motion so long taught
I'd spread my arms his nose would shadow
leap a head above my own
splashing the earthen waterflows
to fetch a chew toy; in the snap of a twig
I let go for a moment - he was gone.


Now I open the door and hesitate;
no dog bolts.
I look to my left and to my right;
the dead space is everywhere
buzzing inside me
were the chimes of his collar
resonating the cicadas.
I greet the day;
the tymbals click.
I greet the day and slice the cheddar;
one for him and one for me
who can not unleash the patterns I have learned
to curl my legs round the hollows of has-been
missing the nest of him.

The night door is ajar
my spade alongside it
the stars are his inkwell
as far as I can feel
is a litter of Kleenex
tossing and turning
my universe with a glove in its mouth;
O the moon how it moans
like a bleary wet nurse
I still reach for the dog -
a nee to rest my chin upon.

07/14/2013

Author's Note: R.I.P. Rudy ... my golden retriever

Posted on 07/15/2013
Copyright © 2025 Elizabeth Shaw