Don’t Send A Poet to Do a Dog’s Job

This is piece which I really enjoyed writing. Hope you enjoy it too!

Don’t Send a Poet to Do a Dog’s Job

I pull the pillow over my head and pretend that I don’t hear him. I really do not hear that ninety pounds of German shepherd, who is fiercely barking and staring directly at the large elm tree in front of our house. It is six o’clock on a Sunday morning in Norwood and the world is in slumber—it sleeps. That is, all but our house.

JoJo barely acknowledges my presence, when I enter the living-room. Invader alert! The squirrel is back! Our furry sentinel stands with his front paws braced against the tattered couch arm and stares statue-like after the offending presence.

We do a mind-meld. “Do something!” he commands. So, I go outside and look up: and the shade-giving canopy into which our nefarious squirrel has disappeared envelopes me.

I am lost in wonder…

I feel the slow tremble of the leaves as the air moves through the trees

My eyes absorb the vivid green

This wondrous monarch, with her living crown of flora, dwarfs me.

I reach out my hand to a feeble ray of light, which has slipped through the twiggy arms

As the wind ruffles my hair, brushing it gently back from my face

The elm moves—a pantomime of some loose-limbed creative dancer,

Communicating a story of larger worlds than mine.

I go back into the house, and sit with JoJo, his head resting on my knee now.

“Don’t send a poet to do a dog’s work,” he mutters. You’re probably right buddy, you’re probably right.

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