On a Tuesday night in June a sprinkler
was minding its own business, scattering water
on the one day a week it’s legal
to scatter water. When it was attacked
by Polo. The Good Dog.
The dog who is never to be trusted with sprinklers.
She cornered her prey, forced
it into submission, into only watering the fence.
Clover stayed dry on the porch, barking,
‘You go, girl!”
I pulled the predatory Polo inside, where she proceeded
to bark at each sprinkler station for the next hour
until the grass was no longer gasping.