huh

on saturday i

save one last

outstretched bone

for a lonely dog

behind my neighbor’s

electric fence

and walk my

freshly mowed lawn

to stare kindness

through his black lab eyes

looking up at me

like a crumpled curbside addict.

we share a suspended

zen lesson

over and over

again, slowly.

me breathing,

murphy waiting.

while front loaders

stage left

startle wagontrail ghosts,

uproot treelines,

harvest and stack

leftover boulders

over

and

over

again: we

trade forests

for cinder blocks.