Zoey
The two old trees out my window bloomed,
but days of rain have soaked the white blossoms,
curled like small fists in the cold.
My sister's dog was sad when we said goodbye.
But "I'll be back!" I said, our rallying cry.
I always arrive with toys. The routine is,
she pokes her head into my cloth bag
and snatches them out herself. I tried
handing her a new toy this time.
She looked at me, until I put it back
in the bag so she could choose it herself.
A small autonomy, honouring
our long tradition.
I like the routine, also the attitude--which brought me back to those little wet fists, haha. Beautiful.
ReplyDeletecurled like small fists in the cold - how great is the imagery here! And love the dog wanting it her way!
ReplyDeleteThe dog part sounds delightful!
ReplyDeleteI've had the same thing happen to my Crabtree blossoms. Rain at the wrong times.
What a smile this brought me!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful dog, and what a beautiful relationship you and Zoey have. She definitely knows a friend when she sees one!
ReplyDelete