From Here to There

In the small, dark hours, the dogs

here give up their territorial duties and

slip silently from the pages of their dog

novels to loosely meet like old men

under the street lights and talk while

wisps of fog bedeck the bushes where

fire flies flash on and off. Any number

of things could set them off, but for

the most part they are quiet because

for a few hours they know they own

a piece of road, a piece of man’s way

from here to there.

In the small, dark hours the LEDs on

our tablet, phones, TV, power strips,

clock, modem, mouse, and chargers,

glow in red, gold, blues, and greens

like low lights in the bushes full of

fire flies. Unable to sleep I dream they

hold my virtual way through the stars

that no dog knows of, it's how I now get

from here to there.

FG Oct. 13^th 2013