September twilight—
 
the dog at my neighbor’s house
 
barks incessantly.

 
 
 

Labor Day weekend—
 
when no one’s watching, the cat
 
eats from the dog’s dish.

 
 
 

bitter iced coffee
 
to help swallow bitter news—
 
dog days of August

 
 

June draws to a close—
 
I think of my dog Skipper,
 
my childhood best friend.

 
 

On a warm spring day
 
a curious crow watches
 
an old dog napping.

 
 
 

November morning—
 
an old man walks through the park,
 
greeting all the dogs.

 
 
 

Long before daybreak
 
a dog in the distance barks
 
disconsolately.

 
 
 

Nothing stays the same—
 
pine cones, dog bones, river stones
 
crumble into dust.

 
 
 

the soothing music
 
of wind chimes beyond my fence
 
and a barking dog

 
 
 

In the oak tree’s shade
 
a homeless man and his dog
 
take a midday nap.