Sunday, October 2, 2011

A so-so poem

Love Song for an Imaginary Pet

I don’t have a dog.

the rain falls and I wish a tail would beat near a fireplace.

he would set his chin on my knee while I knit (I should take up knitting with this fine beast at my side)

his name, Horatio, Ralph, Douglas Fairbanks, scrawled mechanically, tightly on his collar, he jingles when I call and I love the sound of his little paws, dirtying up the rug.

he smells but he is my friend and he thinks me odd when I cry.

he loves the fire, the food that I carry out of the stove, he barks when I come home

only to say he missed me.

he never likes me to leave.

he loves me.

he is devoted.

he may chew and tear and shred and hurt, but only out of adventurous spirit, never malice or contempt.

he knows I love him when I set him down the little bit of steak I can not eat.

he knows I would never harm him.

he rests his chin on my lap while I knit (now that I knit, with my Spike, my Ralph, my Douglas Fairbanks).

I don’t have a dog.

2 comments:

Mythical Monkey said...

Actually, that's a terrific poem ...

Margaux said...

Thank you!