matilda123

I was just heading to bed and flipped open the New Yorker to this poem by Matthew Dickman. Felt like the universe slipped it into my lap:

Walking the Dogs

I haven't done drugs for three
days so I name each one after
my sister and mother and brother
and take them out with me
on a walk, each one taking turns
leading, each one the leader
of a pack that was bred in the mid-
seventies, each leash the color
of glass and the density of a star,
I hold each leash like something
that has returned home after being
lost, I walk them under the oaks
and maples, under the lilacs
and cherries, they walk through
the shadows like the team
they are, each caring of the other
like I always wanted them to,
each giving room for a paw, a tail,
sometimes smelling each other
to make sure they are all right,
we are all all right the thing that
is not god whispers to me,
you are not alone, you are not
a shovel or a horse, even the stem
of the rosemary bush is really
excited that you have made it
this far, see how it shivers
in the early spring breeze, see how
it's a breeze to be with your
whole family, to be the porch
they all sit on after the dinner
and cake, with mugs in their hands
and wine in the mugs, and how they
lift their noses into the wind
and sniff and look
to see if you are there, if you are going
to do what you promised to do,
if you are going to live and call them
sometimes and tell them you love them.

--Matthew Dickman

Soberwolf

Awesome poem Matilda

PurpleKnight

Nice poem Matilda!!