(by Nai’a, a German Shepherd)
Slow and docile, friend of the sun
more sleep than wake
sluggish, mellow, stupid as a stone dreaming
the hot blood of lobos-pack quickened by the chase
as mighty antlered stag and sleek doe flee
leading panic-stricken squirrels by the score
SQUIRRELS . . . oldest frenemies,
I chomped and gobbled ONE TWO THREE of thee
as thy puny cousins
fled and scurried and worried
YES, these pearly sharpened fangs
will strike thee anon!
ah, the pain again
The ancient grace fades, how opaque I grow
cancer-stiff with this new solitude, as you alone
ponder our love.
Stop! Stop! I am still here. Walk now. Walk again,
for the hunt burns keen
Touch my ears and know
the wind’s rise, my hackled-back bristling.
Bark first, whine after . . .
It is Earth’s wish, not mine — my little death is not yours;
not yet. You live long two-legs, but too often poorly.
Yet the rich splendor of yonder pine grove covets and stirs.
Let us dream
Smell what Gaia gifts
Test the breeze, hunt, eat
and know the long quiet sleep
will come, soon
but not just yet
Come now, let us walk . . .
DA Borer roams the shores of the Monterey Bay in California. His creative writing appears in The Write Launch, Montana Mouthful, Sonder Midwest, Dragon Poet Review, Rise Up Review, Coffin Bell Journal and Poetry Now.