Last night Mom went to a poetry reading, and the three people who read their poems were women that Mom used to work with at Hallmark. One of them read a poem about her cat, but none of the poems were about dogs, which I think was a terrible oversight. So I decided to make up for this by writing a poem in my blog today. The poem that I wrote is very heartfelt and deep, and I hope you will not get too sad when you read it.
MY DREAM
In the autumn morning, the sun
comes up
in a puny sort of way and I
get out of bed
and stretch,
like dogs always do when
they first wake up.
Then I eat breakfast
from my little
black
dish and after that I go
out into the yard
to commune with squirrels
or maybe I mean
to hunt squirrels because
I am a descendant of
mighty hunters from the Congo
and hunting is what I do.
But alas, I have
never
caught a squirrel, those pesky
squirrels who run
up trees and do
things like that, and it's
totally unfair that I can't
catch one because
I really have this beautiful
dream
that someday I will.
O, how sad my dream is,
always so far
out of reach! I howl my
protest
to the god of canine hunters,
who I hope really exists,
and who will maybe
hear my plaintive howl
and answer it, so I
can catch one squirrel, just
one before I am
too old to hunt them.
Yes, that is my dream, my
humble basenji dream,
and is it really
too much to ask?
MY DREAM
In the autumn morning, the sun
comes up
in a puny sort of way and I
get out of bed
and stretch,
like dogs always do when
they first wake up.
Then I eat breakfast
from my little
black
dish and after that I go
out into the yard
to commune with squirrels
or maybe I mean
to hunt squirrels because
I am a descendant of
mighty hunters from the Congo
and hunting is what I do.
But alas, I have
never
caught a squirrel, those pesky
squirrels who run
up trees and do
things like that, and it's
totally unfair that I can't
catch one because
I really have this beautiful
dream
that someday I will.
O, how sad my dream is,
always so far
out of reach! I howl my
protest
to the god of canine hunters,
who I hope really exists,
and who will maybe
hear my plaintive howl
and answer it, so I
can catch one squirrel, just
one before I am
too old to hunt them.
Yes, that is my dream, my
humble basenji dream,
and is it really
too much to ask?