Passover at the Dog Park

PASSOVER AT THE DOG PARK
by April Halprin Wayland

Eli rests in the dust by the stone bench
on the east end of the dog park
chewing a disgusting tennis ball.

“C’mon, Eli—we’re in the dog park—
chase someone for heaven’s sake!” I yell.
There’s a man on the bench.

“I’m Eli, too.”
I just told him to chase someone
so I apologize.

“It’s short for Elijah,” he says.
I didn’t know.
My Eli was named after a baseball player.

This Eli says he’s always wanted
to walk through
a random open door

on Passover
and say,
“Hey!  It’s me!  I’m here!”

poem (c) 2012 April Halprin Wayland

Poetry Prompt:

Another true story from the dog park.

During the Passover seder, our family pours a cup of wine and leaves the back door open for the prophet Elijah. I always loved the idea that one day, a man dusty from an unimaginably long walk across the desert would come into our house through that door.

Now it’s your turn. Stand on your head and write a poem for Passover or Easter or Spring. Be unpredictable—come at this topic from a completely different angle. Have fun with this!