June 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016
Of course they love, says my
student. I slap
my dog sometimes when he
comes to my bedside
just to see if . . .
Of course they love, says my student. I slap
my dog sometimes when he comes to my bedside
just to see if he loves unconditionally,
and I can tell he is confused, searching as best
he can his narrow memory for any snap
in discipline, a transgression, lest
he merited the slap and any toothy, snide
snarl would only worsen his suddenly
mysterious ill-placement in this pack I
lead. Unable to discern, he looks at me
for guidance in distress that there might be
a cause, until I augment his easy uncertainty
with a caress, and bring my softest voice to bear
on the curtain I now part on a love so rare.
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June 22, 2016