Reading,
On a Dull Afternoon
In a Quiet Room
Together

Sept 9 2010


We are a contented couple
the pup and I.
The dog is at home
on the leather sofa,
breathing noisily
occasionally yelping
thrashing her legs.
Going after imaginary rabbits
flushing birds.
Perhaps even catching one
as she has always dreamed.

What does she think of me,
looking at paper
rustling pages
adjusting light?
The sudden outbursts,
the quiet chuckles?

This is her gift,
that she does not judge
does not need to know.
Is simply content
with keeping company
with supple leather,
the grudging warmth
of afternoon sun.
And to give unconditional love;
which I return
as best I can.

I think
how truly exceptional it is,
this enduring connection
between our separate species —
the well-armed carnivore,
and the human
who preys on everything.
So I feel privileged
she allows me in.

And she thinks
of dinner,
will leap up instantly
at the sound of the leash.
The feral dog within,
vigilant even in sleep.