The Dogs
The breeze comes out of the East
But it’s blustery
Nevertheless, I receive its commendation
To rest & wait out the aftershocks
I’ve been running so long from everything
All things emblazoned with Loss & Grief
On the scent of nothing
My hope is for a quiet turn
My friend the blackbird is observing me
& I him
Soon it appears
The other dogs will be back with me
& we can feed
& dream peacefully for a time
I wait
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.
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