Soaks against my leg
Where I sip coffee, writing alone
At a café on such a day.
I've worn a skirt to catch the breeze,
Which street dog slobber has smudged
As the pink ball, dirt clinging, pleads.
I set aside my pencil and its perplexities,
(Thoughts clinging)
And throw the ball.
Incredulous, the dog hesitates a moment needed
To assimilate before wordless thanks turns,
Sounds of untrimmed nails scratching street—
Had they been metal, sparks would fly.
I think of a dog with sparkler feet,
(remember phosphorescent fish at the Outer Banks,
4th of July, how they streaked).
4th of July, how they streaked).
Here is my friend come back again.
I reach to pet his head, but the flinch away
Is enough said.
Is enough said.
What the body would say before words,
Before stories intervene and the problematic leash
Impedes,
I envy the street dog, simple and clear.
I stop minding the slobber
Down my clean skirt,
Catching the
breeze.
12/8/2012
