Lucky Dogs   Leave a comment

I’m a dog
deciding where to lie
decades going ‘round and ‘round

I’m not always circling
there were pups to nurse
time spent licking wounds
the snatching of meat
some baring of teeth
always the sniffing
the earning my keep every dog day morning and afternoon

a sparrow cleans the ground below me
I hardly see the crumbs that fill her tiny belly
a man walks by with a crippled boy
they lean into each other
their odd steps match coffee house music
we are all here circling
on packed ground

a man taps my chair with his cane

“Wake up,” says the bushy browed walrus.

I’m 89” he says.
“What have I got to do but chase broads or wait to die.
It’s not bad. Everyone I know is dead. No, not true, I have two classmates
still kicking. We got Ph.ds in the ‘40s.”

I do the math. I may have 33 more years
to keep circling

” lucky dog” I scratch on the tabletop

top 5 regrets of the dying slip

from my social worker notebook

“I wish I had allowed myself to be happier”
“I wish I’d led a life true to myself”

          I want to step in paint and dance in circles on white paper

“I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings”

the walrus tips his cane, says he’s got
two ex-wives waiting in the coffee shop
he exits singing,
“I’ve got hot-rod Ford and a two-dollar bill
I know a place right over the hill…

Mary Strong Jackson


Posted August 8, 2013 by strongjacksonpoet54 in Uncategorized

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