DON'T YOU KNOW
Don't you know how hard it is to write
when you are alone with two Boston
Terriers? When the husband is away
caring for his dying father and the
dogs who love your husband so are in
pain for his leaving and follow you
everywhere about the house?
One curls on top of your discarded
clothes while you are bathing,
one barks at the door at every sound.
They are like four-legged children,
so lonely and looking for solace and love.
Why do we keep animals with us?
We struggle, driven by human needs
that in retrospect seem worthless.
I write this poem now with a dog in
my lap. I write; she sleeps.
It is the spirit of the animal
that I communicate with now.
Don't you know?
I am the lost one.
She knows who and what she is.