Vigilance of a Pooch

Across the street I sometimes see

a small dog in the window.

His fur is white, his eyes are black,

his nose and ears are pointy.

He barks at me if I’m nearby

and won’t stop till I’m gone.

His rigid stance, his fiery glare,

the vigilance of his watch --

I imagine he must think of me

as some fiend on the prowl.

Looking to sate my hunger,

I lick my fangs. I approach

this one-story brick lunchbox

until an angry sprite appears

and banishes me with his howl.

Broadview Ballad

  

Maudie smiles and shakes her head,

the diner’s full of noise;

the customers should be in bed,

they act like little boys.

 

She calls me “cowboy,” then she goes

to get the cheap food started.

We talk a while on jokes and shows.

Retention has departed.

 

He’s sloshed, I’m pissed, she’s barely here;

at least the crowd is cheerful.

We eat too fast and want a beer

but know the weather’s awful.

 

Maudie and I share some words;

she likes me, and I her.

Some won’t remember what they heard

or even where they were.

 

Good-spirited we go our way;

a stranger gets too close.

We hold our cards, line up to pay,

we have enjoyed our dose.

 


 

To a Bird on a Field on a (Very) Windy Day

 

The wind does not offend you

with its mighty blows;

small winged friends, pretend

you’re stronger than what shows.

 

Uncertain is my hat

and shaken is my step—

how strange to think of that

while birdies seem adept.

 

You hop, and peck, and turn

you fly! with no concern.

Cocky—almost,

if birds could feel cocky!

 

Your beauty is what saves you, friend,

from pesticides and hate—

though, looking at your puffed-up chest,

I feel a bit irate.

 

Who’s to say this boney fowl

should taste the clouds (so sweet)

or scratch or shit or bite or peck

—all garnished with a tweet?

 

I think I’ll forget the feathers.

 

Bastards! Low-profile,

fickle fleshlings,

garbage-eaters,

I glorified you with my mere ponderings;

observations of stature

clearly unseen

in your lifeless black eyes.

 

Likely-diseased vermin,

I erred in my adoration.

Not

a thought

for you.