Simmering paths of my headlights steadily deadened
through the fog through the dark
as I come upon what seems
a sudden encampment on the road.
Behind discs of mica eyes,
a large blond dog is lying
on his side and breathing hard. And curled around him,
another large blond dog, a Chow,
is slowly licking the hurt one—
growling whenever persons come near.
I think of how Lila, my yellow Lab,
carouses at my window to check my face;
stays home all day for any sign of my car;
how here where wagon trains once pulled into a circle
against the prairie, against the night,
suburbs lunge to end the wilderness,
a strange lone dog protects his kind, his friend?—
and formally blocks the road….
As if to calm the suspense of dying,
they seem to have settled into a spell;
staked out a close, oblivious solitude
to hold a ceremony of their own….
Yet watch us humans keep our distance;
breath-signals code the night;
headlights prowl….
Originally published in Cider Press Review, Volume 1.
