this was inspired by the poem The Poetry Teacher by Mary Oliver. I started imagining what it would be like to her dog……..
She is Poet,
out the door and bounding to the woods,
blue jeaned legs striding in wet grass,
her nose high in the air,
eyes aware of every nuance
And i am Dog,
tail wagging, my nose awakened by all released in the wet dew,
eyes watchful that i not lose sight of her,
knowing that at some point,
i’ll catch up.
She strides among the trees and i hear her murmur words
as she touches bark, branch, leaf,
and then becomes very still
to watch some secret little find i know not where.
i try to catch the scent of whatever has caught her eye
and come to a Sit at her side.
i am Dog and she is Poet,
Then with an intake of breath,
and a brush of her fingertips on my head,
we move on.
We repeat this dance
until the dew has evaporated,
the noon sun is high and hot,
and both our tummies rumble with hunger.
Back then through woods and field
to Home where her body comes to rest in Chair
and we become our most essential beings.
i flop at her feet
pressing my nose to her toes.
All the intangible delights of the last few hours
saturate my senses.
i dream of it all as she writes.
At peace in the afternoon sun,
i am Dog, she is Poet.