Telling: Streams & Logs


calling the dogs



the puppy sits in the falling leaves

the light knows her for what she is
i look      and she is still
i look again     and she is gone 



the leaves on the porch have lost all their light

all that remains is sound
and touch   a propensity to motion
gone still 

I step into the ruffle
the shift and sigh
and stop 

when I call the dogs to me
they come    full throttle
tags chiming through the dim    
the mild     the ready



when the dogs are not waiting
just outside the door
I call them by their pet names
lulu belle     fearsome    come on sweet thing     
come on girl
out of distance they arrive
bright-breathed and dancing
all tongue and tail and claw



I should be working but
the pup has rested all her confidence
in me      I am transfixed
by the twitch of her dreaming
the heat in the palm of my hand