Young Dog Dashing ~ imitating a poem I love
Young Dog Dashing, how do you run
With Greyhound and Husky in the dust and the sun?
In circles and twisting around the trees
Gathering others for the widening game.
Poop Patrol
Eli is hunching near the fence
on a patch of grass
by the third tree
from the tool shed.
In Pollywog Park
One middle school kid,
talking cocky
commandeers the outdoor glider.
A gawky squirt
in a shirt that’s khaki
tries high five but he’s an outsider.
TV Cooking Show
I’m going to come out of the closet and say I don’t think I’m the only one who stays up late to watch Chopped. Am I right?
Dogs Don’t Go to Funerals
Dogs don’t go to funerals.
They follow behind ghosts,
sniff empty slippers,
tilt their head in question,
pause to gnaw fleas
between the toes of a paw.
Six Words About the Dog Park
I’m not known for being concise. But that’s exactly what I admire: a few brush strokes to suggest a cat sleeping, a few ingredients to make a meal, a few words to tell a story.
Dog Park Spring Quartet
Sometimes I get flashes on a topic. Pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit together with that satisfying click no matter how I look at the pieces.
Grooming
Slow down. Be present. Observe one facet of your life.
Passover at the Dog Park
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.
Write an Autopilot Poem
Every Tuesday night I tell myself:
tomorrow is Wednesday.