all the secrets that
the fine dogs speak
in messages passed
one to the next
you hear their
voices’ urgent calls
beneath sun or moon,
it makes no matter
fears, anger, joy,
all passed along
to the next vocal
harmonizer
a language all their
own to describe
their time in
captivity, loved or nay,
still there is a way
to share it all
with the chain of
barks or howls
as they meet on the
road, across town,
each one reporting
the day’s events
a good run, a good
meal, a round of fetch,
it all gets
delivered in the news
as well as who
passes by, how he smells,
friend or foe in
this neighborhood
they know it all,
see it all, sense it all
and when darkness
falls, they are alert
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