Dog Park, January 20, 2021

Oh fellow Americans at the dog park,
we are united in our love of dogs

and our lack of fenced backyards,
and so we come together on this evening

in the 13th month of 2020 under the light
of a single street lamp and a half moon rising

to let our happy animals romp and woof
and chase each other and drink heartily

from shared bowls and attempt to hump
one another and get snapped at

and sometimes to bare teeth and growl and
sometimes to pee on deflated soccer balls

and to play tug of war with filthy rags,
while we the dog owners watch and chat

and exist as part of the masses, you a teacher,
you a truck driver, you a father, a geologist,

a musician, a student, a retired engineer, a retired
insurance agent, you unemployed, you laid off

since March, you with a complicated job
no one understands, you a regal lady

with, no joke, a tiny Cocker Spaniel
who wears a coat and watches from outside

the fence our pit bull mixes, our hounds
and retrievers, Rhodesian Ridgebacks,

German Shepherds, beagles and huskies,
our Goldendoodles, Corgis and terriers

gallop and roll in the dust. We become
in the darkness a single being,

dog and dirt and human, trampled grass.
Our voices one bark toward the sky.

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