Dog On Braided Rug, II

Now I understand why he settles down
so carefully, with nuzzlings, sniffs, and three
methodical turns round the spot before he flops
on the braided rug, just missing its bullseye--

for who would not select with care
a jumping-off place for this free-fall
limbo of loose limbs (angled crazily
athwart the frame) that we humans tame
by putting it in beds behind locked doors
and calling it "sleep".

This rug is where he anchors to our presence
before spinning off into ear-twitching,soft-
puppy-whimper dreams--

in technicolor? Perhaps not, but what
these homey colors are to us, the smell
of our presence and of the crumbs of munched
Milkbone and old fur-fluffs (become warp
and weft of this old rug) are to his
most perilous dreams.

Dean Blehert

Last Updated: October 6, 2002