ramble-amble dog down the road of time
snuffling gateposts as he goes
and laughing,
tongue on the sly
what stories will he find
on the night-woven breeze
here, where no collared
contented dog
ever would go
and not much stopping,
no
just to excavate portions
of somebody's lawn,
investigate tulips and trash
for awhile
some folks don't like what he finds –
creased dirty dungarees
nobody wants
under the earth
under the mind
ramble-amble dog digging up
old luck and hearts
rusted like knives
tossing and catching them
in his dog smile
|