Between Dreams

 

My dog lays around
And grumbles,
And moans;
Disturbed disapproval
In guttural tones.

Those who come to the door
Are greeted with this.
His head is upturned
When dreams are amiss.

Running through fields
Or chasing small birds?
Legs quiver,
Feet jerk,
Flews tense,
Breath spurts.

When I leave there’s no reason.
While gone thoughts run deep.
Pulling up he’s there waiting;
Gyrating tail,
Circling feet.

I holler, “hey boy!”
As he’s running in glee.
Now where ever I go
Nails click behind me.

When I sit at the table
A good boy,
So alert.
He’s more than pleased
With trimmings
In dirt.

If reading or zoning
On the couch,
By my feet.
Although, if leftovers call!
To the trash he will sneak.

Staring at me,
Back and forth and afar,
A cookie,
The leash,
Perhaps a ride in the car.

No matter what comes
There’s no shame in his pleas.
He’s always at best
As he runs through the trees.

Afterwords, all muddy paws are ignored;
Tomorrow’s swept dust
Waits in prints on the floor.

A vigorous shake and a thump by the door,
Eyes fixed on me,

Slowly close,

Then he snores.

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