Puppies
I watch him waken from his nap.
Stretching, rolling, finally standing.
He looks about, searching for his newest challenge.
The little tail in constant animation.
The stubby legs running, stumbling, chasing all that moves.
A brief pause to sample flora, tugging on a stubborn weed.
Youthful bravado on display.
Chewing on a broken stick, carried around for all to admire.
Off again with his unsure gait to seek another treasure.
I pick him up and reap the bounty of a soft wet tongue on my cheek,
while he wiggles to once again be free.
On he goes, sniffing, tasting, finding life in all he sees.
And finally, when all his dragons have been slain
and imagined foes subdued, he returns.
With heavy eyes and weary legs,
lays his head upon my foot and dreams his puppy dreams.
This is a favorite poem for a couple of reasons. Partly because it is the second poem I ever wrote, and partly because I have loved dogs since I was a child and have had many canine friends over the years. But in my heart, I cherish the puppy, fresh to our world, on a journey of discovery, innocent and so curious. I tried to capture that here.
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