Big Dog’s Day
The center of his world has left his side.
His disappointment is too huge to hide.
Long limbs stretch out upon the floor.
Sad eyes stare at the offending door.
He whimpers, heaves a heavy sigh.
His master left with just a quick goodbye,
went to work in the city all day.
The big dog’s heart won’t let him play
just yet. But later he’ll forget.
A passing siren will trigger a wolf-like wail.
Neighbors’ dogs will coax his reluctant tail
to wag. He’ll race around his fenced jail,
chasing whatever toys—imaginary or real—
he sees, beginning to get the taste, scent, feel,
of wind and rain, odors left by other creatures.
His alert senses are his constant teachers.
Exhaustion soon sends him inside for a nap.
He dreams he’s coiled on his master’s warm lap.
He can’t believe that’s a joy he’ll never know
because his huge body continues to grow.