Sleeping Dogs Lie
My dog sleeps on
the deck, a brown
lump with blurred
edges, under sun’s
hazed glow. He waits
for doors to open,
wood boards to creak,
someone far off
to speak loud words,
for coyotes to lope
too close, his world
a dream with thin
lines between closed
lids and eyes wide
open that beckon
to me to stop
watching and do.
• • •
Richard Dinges, Jr. lives and works by a pond among trees and grassland, along with his wife, two dogs, three cats, and eight chickens. Poem, Oracle, The River, Alembic, and October Hill most recently accepted his poems for their publications.