[media-credit name=”Nick B” align=”alignnone” width=”640″][/media-credit]
I apologize for finding this dog to shadow
you even as you pace the attic from desk
to window, you and he, a pair now, contemplating
those tough computer programming issues
at which dogs notoriously shine.
He accompanies your every step. I’m sorry
he curls into a protective C near the head
of the stairs in case an intruder prowls
through the rest of the house to find you;
protects you in his guardian curl but fails
to bark unless, of course, the intruder thinks
to use the doorbell and then, I’m sorry I
brought home this dog who joins the clamor
of the clapper and dashes and woofs
and raises the roof. I am sorry I chose this dog
who walks with a loose leash by your side, calmer
than a summer wind, calmer than the yogi,
tail swinging, mouth in a big, wide laugh
and you must walk and walk and walk him
and he draws you outdoors in black, in wet.
I am sorry this dog lures you from your work;
this dog holds you close to home; this dog
empties your pocketbook; this dog compels
you to love him. I’m sorry.