My Illogical Human Ways

The Old ManI am angry with my dog for getting old. His clock runs faster than mine. Elasticity running backwards, his face needs a good fluffing when he wakes.

I am angry with my dog for jumping off the bed; fearful of the countdown in his bones. Ligaments, tendons, and joints sound a rusted calliope; threating explosion with every pulse.

I am angry with my dog for not jumping off the bed. Though, I’ve fought the same battle between renal relief and reluctant repose.

I am angry with my dog because his temperament mirrors my own. Each of us obstinate by repetition and the need for economy of movement.

I am angry with my dog because elegiac words, well formed or not, will always fall short of the heart’s intent. Plus, he’ll¬†never read them.

I am angry with my dog because one day I will call his name to an empty room; ashamed that I was ever angry with an animal so beautiful and accepting of my illogical human ways.

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