A Poem from The Review Mirror
David M. Harris
Lying there, on his last day,
dreaming, perhaps, of rabbits
or the days he dodged the leash,
borrowed freedom for an afternoon.
Or of those three days in the new neighborhood
chasing squirrels and adventure
but glad to see me when I collected him
after he drifted onto a stranger's porch,
lost and tired and hungry.
His legs, in dreams still strong
and under his control,
speed him through the woods
scattering the turkey
gaining on the deer--
I wake him, lift his head
and carry him off
to where I tell myself
he will dream forever.