DougBlog

Skiing With The Dog

Jessie worked her snout in the snowtent
of a pine sapling just off the trail.
“Don’t eat the hemlock, you’ll wind up like Socrates,”
I said like a fool. Like Socrates would live
today, absent poison. As if the damned
short-lived dog would come to other end
than ending. In any case it was a pine.

And Jessie just the color
of the beech leaves
still well-attached
in January.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 20th, 2008 at 10:51 am and is filed under Dougerel - Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.