My yellow Labrador puppy
abruptly stops
halfway through his dog door.
He eyes the grey early morning sky
and regards the giant snowflakes
as they slowly fall like white doilies
covering the red Alabama mud.
He emerges into the yard
and licks his back
tasting the snow,
then runs full speed
in a large circle,
snapping at snowflakes in the air.
Stopping in the middle of the yard,
head cocked to one side,
ears peaked with attention,
he looks at me through the kitchen window,
wondering how I can stop to make coffee
on such an amazing day.
William Ogden Haynes, AL, USA
7 comments:
William Ogden Haynes is a poet and writer of short fiction from Alabama who was born in Michigan and grew up a military brat. He has published in literary journals such as California Quarterly, Quantum Poetry Magazine, Front Porch Review, Full of Crow, Indigo Rising, Forge, The Houston Literary Review and PIF Magazine. His chapbook entitled Five Thousand Days has been accepted for publication in 2012 by Negative Capability Press in Mobile, AL. He believes that the mark of good writing is that, at the end, people feel glad they read it. In a prior life he taught speech-language pathology at Auburn University and authored six major professional textbooks.
Lovely....I can see those big flakes drifting down and that excited little dog having such a wonderful time.
Very awesome poem, thank you for sharing!
Can't help my tears in falling down. A very inspirational poem.
Great! such a wonderful poem.=D
He really captures the bouncy innocence of his dog there, the way the lines break up at each movement of his head or eyes, very clever.
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