Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Not his death but the way of it
haunted the day.
It sat up and begged,
forepaws–for answers--
scratching unanswered doors.

Cars don’t share the road with dogs,
and the dogs have not been told.
Tires, like trees, are there
for cocked legs,
not for sudden death.

Given forever,
they could never fix a flat,

nor I, wagging my ignorant tail
across a dangerous world,
put back the pieces
of a dog’s boy’s heart.

Jim 12/13/09

Jim, this is so affecting. It breaks my heart, and yet gives a kind of hope in the very grieving. One glitch on the way to perfection to my mind:

"of a dog’s boy’s heart."

Wouldn't "of a boy's heart." be more effective?

Peace,
Laurie

Sure, unless you read that the boy's heart belonged to the dog. Thank you for reading and responding so quickly. jim

Breaks my heart
Thanks for the poem it puts words to what I have felt about dogs gone by.

Letting go, I suppose that is what kids learn from loving dogs. The first mourning experience for many of us. If we are fortunate sons.

One of your best, Jim. Strong poem with that mature sentiment.

Dogs boy. It is the truth of all pet [owners]. We are as much theirs as they are ours. Especially dogs. In the case of cats we are more theirs than they are ours. But that's okay with me. I learned to live with it at a very early age. The dog was mine, I was the cats.

Very moving.

Congrats, Jim. This is one of those "Awww!" poems. I am now a cat person now (too lazy to walk a dog), and this really touched me. I found my Sheltie Pablo Neruda a great home before I moved back to Buenos Aires, and I still miss him. There is nothing as moving as a dog pricking his ears, lolling his tongue, and looking at you with love.

I will stick to cats, though. Sue♥♥