my nose half missing,
one eye plucked away, accidentally,
my arm torn and my coat
dirty and worn.
My mother, my guardian, my caretaker,
carries me in her soft, wet mouth
in rain and snow and sun.
I am silent, and when I'm put
down to rest, I hug the edge of
the wood deck and
a neat piece of wood, one
leg askew behind me.
The coarse stitches on my paws
evidence my care.
I'm brandished, admired and
a part of morning's
ceremony when my caretaker
is fed and petted and cooed over
by her master.
And so it goes. My caretaker holds
dominion over me, Master holds
dominion over my caretaker.
And so it goes. And so it goes.
|Author:||tjpitre on Saturday, 24 Oct. 2009|
|License:||Copyright, all rights reserved|