Poppy’s Road
Since the fireworks of the Fourth Of
July, I haven’t been reading
Been watching too much reality TV
Drinking too much, writing too
little
I haven’t been feeling myself
But I can find myself sane
Walking the road with my dog, Poppy
After the ceremony of her wiggling
into the harness clipped with a name tag and leash
Through the kitchen door like a
magical wish
We check both directions at the end
of the driveway and cross the road as it sparkles like a broken string of
pearls beneath our feet
These old shoes are jumping new with
her graham cracker paws, chocolate fur, and marshmallow heart walking into the
afternoon sun
The shade of the neighboring weeping
willows and maples keeps us from melting
We don’t have a particular route or
a place to go, only back home at some point for thirst, hunger, or shelter
We are just walking
Up and down hills
The way it should be
It’s necessary
I don’t close my eyes
She’s a hunting dog, and we don’t
hunt,
She needs what we all do, a little
work, exercise, and fun
And we do this for the beauty of it
We don’t see it from a corporate
tower
We see it on the ground
Walking, her tail wagging, the nails
of her paws are clicking piano keys
A melody carries this slice of time
away
With this, I’ve learned how to walk
and to keep walking
No one in front of us but hopefully,
someday, behind,
Someone who might learn how to walk
Poppy’s road
Mitchell Flanagan
Mitchell Flanagan is an artist, writer, and musician from Newburgh, New York. His poems appeared in The Chronogram in August 2010 and December 2011. His work appeared in Ariel Chart in April 2020 and April and December 2021. In addition, he's working on a collection of short stories, novels, and poetry books. His band is Cold Heaven.
This is so wonderful, Mitchell.
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