Covid19 seems to have shrunk my world to a few people and a medium town in the Midlands. No longer are my poems on subjects life unfairness, injustice and poverty. Instead I think about dogs! Perhaps it is self preservation in a world which too big to solve. I suppose I could justify this poem as a form of mindfulness and appreciation of what I have; a thankfulness for the simple things in life.
I scratch the floor, at something after four And wait for the sound Of her stumbling down the stair, in her second-hand nightwear To let me out the back door. In the misty garden, dark, I let out a muffled bark, I can't help it, its an involuntary twitch. She stands and waits, while I dither and cogitate Deciding the best place to sh.. Then I follow her to bed, and settle by her head And dare to lick her face with a kiss. At seven my tummy rumbles and out of bed I tumble, Pawing her curled up form. A breakfast of sardines, sprinkled with some beans And I'm ready for my daily walk. I pull her to the park, chase Pippin for a lark And if I'm lucky find some wet fox poo. I wander up the hill, sniffing and cocking until She hands me a treat and my lead, Cos' she's finished on her phone and it's time to wander home Where she wipes my fur and paws. The rest of the day I sleep, curled up, my head on my feet Dreaming of rabbits, squirrels and sticks. It's a dog's life, so, being the master, I know, She can't resist my doleful eyes. I wag my tail madly and she'll laugh and gladly Give me what she knows I want. I don't need to nip and grovel, my life is doggy simple. Food, poos, treats and cuddles. I've no need to moan or grouse, For I'M the master of her house.