FALL/ WINTER 2012

next



Harvey Feinstein

BARKING DOG, SUNDAY MORNING

That morning he awoke in a different bed.
A chair which had stood in the corner
Was changed overnight,
An ordinary chair, it used to be red.
Now it wasn’t.

Books, family photos, shoes,
Underwear, socks, old pants tossed
Over the chair, where were they.
It was a persistent howling
Roused him, but his dog was dead.

Not unusual to discover himself
Awakening in a stranger’s bed
On a Sunday morning.
He’d slept his way through
A warehouse of other people’s beds.

This howling dog was new.
Did it live in the room,
Whose room - what dog!
Lost in one of those moments

With memory slow in returning
He lay perfectly still, waiting.
Someone would be coming soon
Tapping at the door bringing coffe,
A kiss, then naked, slip in beside him.

The men entering did not offer morning coffee.
“You old coot, you pulled off your nightshirt again.
Now keep this on, OK? YOU HEAR ME? OK?
And stop that howling.”

They fussed, fluffed pillows, changed sheets,
Checked blood pressure, handed pills,
Left him lying there remembering another time,
A more pleasant time,
Of a kiss with morning coffee.


back to top

 

 


send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2000 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to author

 

 

Poetrybay seeks fine poetry, reviews, commentary and essays without restriction in form or content, and reserves first electronic copyright to all work published. All rights to published work revert to the author following publication. All Email submissions should be in body of email text.

To submit poems write to:

PO Box 114 
Northport NY 11768
or email us at 
info@poetrybay.com

send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2004 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to authors

website comments to dpb@islandguide.com