Lazy dog

The lazy dog

beats time with his tail,

each dull thump of fur on floor

sends motes of dust

rising, rising

into the sun-shot afternoon heat.

He whines, a nasal yawn,

bears his yellowed teeth

and snaps his jaws

at the flies who plague his brindled hide.

He is old now, old and weary

with the years hanging heavy on four arthritic paws

and so, he dozes, with half-closed eyes,

his only movement

the slow baton of his tail

conducting an invisible orchestra

in common time.


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