The dog did it
Tomorrow,
we shall try this dance
just one more time.
All worn out now;
it’s the end of the day.
And, like a hound dog
plopping itself down
onto a dusty wooden porch at twilight,
sneaking one last gaze at the horizon,
then drifting into a little nap
with a sigh,
and passing a bit of gas,
this day passes
from today
into yesterday.
