Regular Poem: A Tragic Tale of Five Minutes

21 Apr

She was standing there on the corner
in the rain
as if she’d been waiting for me
knowing I’d pull around
following me into
my driveway
smiling and damp
tail
wagging.

She knew
sit.
She probably
had a name.
What was it?
Sadie?

And then
the dog catcher pulled up.

I watched
from the garage
as he whistled
and she was so good
and trotted right to
the back of his van
ready to be caught.

I don’t need
another animal.
But for a moment
I wanted one
had one.

Maybe I’ll go
to the pound
tomorrow.
If she’s not there,
no harm no foul.
If she is,

sit, Sadie, sit.

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