An elegy in metaphor, or some such construct of modern poetic license. Anyway, this morning I was feeling all dog-honoring. Therefore, to all the dogs.
I sit, penned in, like a singular head of cattle.
Cement and wood and stucco form my enclosure, and the white of clouds foregrounding the blue of open sky, not yet awash with the pastels of another setting sun.
Until I hear, as if for the first time, the wind, in the sound of a lover’s wincing pleasure, between rough slats of painted pine behind my head.
It is here that I sit and sip my morning coffee, and try, for just this moment, to recapture my humanity.
And in these words, succeed.
© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday