...

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A terrier barks

At the foot of a tree - 

Pining,

After the chattering of a squirrel

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That’d been teasing, out

From within the confines of some leaves.

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                A little dog,

                With little legs

                And a foaming desperation

                To catch its antagonizer  

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                Between the snapping redemption

   That would be the closing of its teeth.

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This was the daily activity - 

A little dog, perpetually beaten,

And a squirrel, so preoccupied

With its preparatory height

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        that it hardly seemed to care.

.

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I watched this happening from a lawn chair atop my balcony.

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I tracked the fence that contained them both;

I watched the terrier, and the squirrel,

And I imagined, that, such an existence

Might be the natural equivalent

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Of either some kind of illusory purgatory, 

Or another kind of immutable hell.

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As I came to this conclusion, 

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I couldn’t tell

If I sympathized more

With the terrier

Than I might've done

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with the squirrel.

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