Two Dogs

Kevin Young’s poem “Blessings” has this stanza, which I adore:

 

May the white dog

of Mercy drag you

from the car long before

it pours into flame.

 

May Mercy come

when called.

 

So I wrote this, about Clover, who does not inspire adoration.

 

May the black dog

of Mischief stir up

trouble just as

you close your eyes to nap.

 

May Clover ignore

your call.

 

May she bark at the squirrel until, next door, Annie gets her gun.

May she leap on your stomach after you’ve thrown up, to wish you well.

May she dig nonsense holes to nowhere

that you trip in. May she lounge on the table,

stare at you with blind eyes, flip her flippity tail and say.

Actually, I did drag you from the car in time. 

Comments

  1. Woof, woof! Good dog, Clover. Mischief saves the day.

  2. A dog can be a kind of saviour, I think…with all that nonsense-y, joy-inducing play. I think that was your point.
    Here’s to a joyous 2015, Megan.

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