some nights it
seems that our
dog ingrid has
it all figured
out, she understands
love and closeness
when to drink
water, and when
to sleep, she
doesn’t stay up
late on her
phone wondering about
the world, no
she lives in
minutes of joy
running, licking, waiting
for someone to
drop food on
the floor, this
has been said
before, but always
good to remember
that we are
animals too, and
it can all
be much more
simple, if we
let it be
many years
ago i
cooked rabbit
really rabbits
for there
were two
that i
cut with
my chef’s
knife to
separate meat
from bone
and while
this happened
i whisphered
i’m sorry
your lives
had meaning
we will
eat all
of you
and we
did, but
i was
still sad
Sam was short for Samurai,
a lion like Akita, let me eat
from his bowl when no one
else was looking. He killed
neighborhood cats, then
one night a car killed him.
There was Popcorn, named
by my sister, part husky
she loved to run away,
nose against screen door, then
escaped on down the road.
We’d yell Popcorn like circus
vendors, until she came back home.
Ginger was part sheltie, but
thought she was a cat,
never more happy than
sitting on our lap. She
loved us, and we loved her
back, there was no other way.
She squirms, arches belly up,
scratch me, love me, don’t forget me.
Eyes and eyelashes, wise and long,
this one-year old furry seer, knows
if you are kind. Sometimes I ignore her
paws clawing at the sky, asking important
questions. How can you focus on
anything more than me, than this
moment, do you see me, really see me?
Here I am, I love you. Where’d you go?
Did you forget?
You are me too.
Daniel W. Polk 