wildflower hike
with pup who will never whine:
a perfect Wednesday
Life’s a Hike
dog
Chihuahua
half a snake’s length
she presses against my thigh
as if it could be cold in July
one weekend away
and she whines when we leave
her Chihuahan heart upon her sleeve
ten years old
and though she still drives me crazy
she teaches love, faith, and how to be lazy!
Just What I Didn’t Expect
just when I’m about to turn
on a ride that’s a bit too long
(the sun is mocking me),
I catch a glimpse of a black shadow
in my newly-purchased rearview mirror.
at an easy lope, he follows me like a horse,
black and white fur as thick as
wool on a sheep’s back, tongue
dangling out the side of his mouth
with a wanton lust for liquid.
I pedal faster, but have never seen
a dog keep my 15 mph pace, and
the adrenaline seeps out with my sweat.
But I can’t just ride into the night,
so I slam on the brakes at the crest of a hill.
In a moment, he bounds over the top,
blue eyes as beautiful as the baby’s, he’s
a Husky in Kentucky, poor thing. I call to
him like he’s mine and he obediently
sits beside the bike for a master-pet rub.
I gulp down my Gatorade, make my turn,
and he follows me for a good long mile,
just as a sled dog should, just what I didn’t
expect, reminding me once again that this place
(I should hate) is just what I didn’t expect.
Haiku Five!
how is it that the
technology to make our
lives easy isn’t?
why do little girls
scream when babies are trying
to take a short nap?
how red can the sun
shine, first in the morning light
then sending me home?
Blue is a lonely
soul who’s camera shy with soft
brown dog loving eyes.
how many cat calls
will i hear in Kentucky,
land of bikeless broads?
On Either Side
On either side, dressed in
variations of gray and white fur
(one solidly shedding, the other
in soft tufts of touchability)
they rest their hindquarters against
my hips in hateful solidarity.
They may be the opposite kind,
but too similar in size, too close
in shape and movement, to face up
to the gargantuan monster who lingers
at the foot of the bed, anxious to play
chase with a new set of fluffy toys.
Whenever he puts his mind to it,
he criss-crosses the room, trotting out
of either door in expectant circles,
forcing low growls, angry hisses, and
petulant pea-sized barks that leave him
both guessing and wanting more.
Whether they’re protecting me or I’m
protecting them, the warmth of love
on either side, floppy eared on the left,
twitching tail on the right, makes me
(us) feel right at home in this home
that is (not quite) our home.
Step Write Up 