lost dog

the dog darts up the driveway in the dusk
i am sitting on the porch steps in almost spring
listening to peepers and drowsy wrens
having not barked a jogger, she sits facing
her head turns side to side
an ear cocking for every distinct note of evensong
a lonesome beagle a block over, the distant great dane
she doesn't turn her head for the buzz of a scooter,
but ever silver pickup she follows with her nose and tail extended
every hound dog inch stretched against the invisible line of fence
she holds to promises longer than i do.
her little heart does not forgive.
the gathering dusk always finds her waiting.
she sits beside me on the steps
glossy black ears, red collar
she smells of compost and hay
like summer days on the farm.
the smell of  someone else's dinner
wafts across the porch, wrinkling her long, black nose
she sits with me
but she's not my dog.
she lost her heart.

13 march 2012