Jezebel

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
You were my first dog.

I chose you, a howling armful of blueblack furred energy,
Chosen because of your equine likeness, wild and free;
Chosen because of a lost love, and a love needed;
Chosen because of what is and always will be

 
 
 
 
 
 

And you metamorphised into a regal.
Bearing straight and aired nose.
Night-sheened satin coat. Bright eyes all seeing.

I was your slave, and rightfully so.
You brought more to me than I ever did to you.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Your kingdom, though, was not a throne. It was
Cavorting with gulls on Connecticut beaches,
Racing my Ghia in Illinois corn fields,
Following horses in Pennsylvania pastures,
Hiking orchards and Vermont mountains.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
And under a full moon
I took your ashes to the beach
And cast you to the winds and waves.

But never out of my heart.
Never.

 
 
 
 
 
 

You were my first dog.