A Little Dog

Once I roamed through the woodlands With my large old shepherd companion. We walked fearless, through redwoods and pines, Through vines and ferns To the top of the Cross mountain. There we stood gazing out over the hills Covered with sage and lavender, Over the tops of homes cream and salmon, The tall buildings of cement and glass On the shores of an emerald bay. We made our way by the pampas grass Onto the dunes and sands, Felt the water spray of the waves As they hurled onto the shores. We walked freely then in the world As only nature’s top predators can. Gone now into ashes and into ground My big dog is no more. For now I have a little dog Who jumps up anxiously for the treat in my hands. When worried she barks and bears her teeth, Or crouches down onto the ground. No long walks into the forest deep Or along its mossy paths. To a coyote or cougar she would appear As an easy light meal And I fear I would not be able To keep them away. So, no more wandering freely Through the grandeur of the land. I no longer walk along the unpredictable sea Where rogue waves crash and crush; Where unforgiving and unfeeling forces flow. So now we stand upon the cliffs Behind the gray old redwood fence. Once, I had a big dog and we walked freely Along the glorious shores. Now I keep my little dog close And when a stranger knocks We stay behind closed doors.