|
| shoulder | |
| driving to work | |
| in the dawn -- | |
| by the edge of the road | |
| a dog lying still on his side, | |
| the wind softly ruffles | |
| dusty brown fur, | |
| rushing traffic | |
| for company. | |
| a small part of me | |
| still quietly thinks | |
| he should wake up and realize | |
| that a road's cold shoulder | |
| is not a good place | |
| for a lost dog to be, | |
| and get up and leave | |
| before I pass this place | |
| coming home... | |
| © Jon Bohrn (1999) |
