On the corner by the bush
I can sniff Toby’s tush
he was here - not so long ago
lifting his leg high then low
upon the birch bark
along the doggie trail park.
And then, there in the yellow snow
Fifi left her smell for me to know
the swell past is here in the now
so I may write poetry
with tortured bow wow
woofing for more rhymes
and the good times
behind our old tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment