Lost Dogs

Open cans of worms spill out
and take over the world while
just ignoring all the protest
from the people who had good
things going recently.

Halloween is canceled and the plastic
skeletons floating in the pool
are just for show, so do not jump
in and try to save them,
they are dead or really not real
in the first place.

The strays with their asymmetrical
faces all fit in well this time of year
because the dying trees make them
look much more alive.

This is the season of grandmas
sewing their fingers together
in the machine so that they have
to scream for help through
all their windows.

I will not keep the door closed
for the sunset because there’s
a chance they’re all still out there
simply trying to get back.

I’m referring to the lost dogs
of my past who ran away
because the only things I care for
want their freedom more than all
that I could give.

I’m still here though if they need me,
and I will watch for them
with streaks of clouds above me
like a razor blade was taken to the sky,
and I will die without them
seeing me again.

One thought on “Lost Dogs

  1. “the lost dogs of my past who ran away because the only things I care for want their freedom more than all that I could give” – for me, this (along with the stanzas either side) is an image of stubborn heartbreak and loss, a wound that won’t heal made to sting by an implication of irreparable inadequacy. I’m not sure I understand the poem overall yet, but this is so poignant and memorable as an image. Sooooo good.

    Like

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