howls at the moon
in a mesh of darkness.
When he tries to speak,
all he can do is bark,
trying to tell me why
he’s so damn lonely.
He monitors news on CNN,
figures you can’t believe
what people say.
He wonders why men march,
beat drums, and wave flags?
He’s as peaceful as a sleeping possum,
and rescues victims of human mistakes.
He’s most at home in a junkyard
doing something useful,
Humans get lost, afraid of the darkness.
Dogs know there’s always a vein of starlight
in the black of night, and don’t even have a bark
Dogs don’t even think about anything
except infinite love. All they ever want
is to touch and be touched,
and maybe have a t-bone steak
once in a while.
Milton P. Ehrlich 199 Christie St. Leonia, N.J. 07605