The dogs, I’ve been watching them across the
street in Cherry Park,
now, going on seven years—
I feel affection for them, I really do— (there are several of them at any
given day or time)
They don’t seek or demand or expect eternal
life, —I’m sure if they
knew about it, they’d not throw it away.
But what I really notice is that they ask
only to eat, sleep in the
course of a full day, to be: loved, played with, appreciated,
respected, each looking at me (or
perhaps any person will do)
Wondering, with bewilderment (large and small alike)
All with lit lanterns inside their fluttering
eyes, wondering, always
wondering and always in bewilderment, on a windy night or
sunny day—
I’ve come to the conclusion—all dogs in Cherry Park
(or for that
matter, perhaps in
the world)
Yield to the doors of mystery, and die in the
unknown, (knowing all
along, man had the answer they were looking
for).
#3879 (4-26-2013)
