by Thomas D. Reynolds
Dragging his chain,
the dog nears the car.
I judge at once
the level of threat.
His chain is small.
He's no rebel, but a pup
who doesn't know what
to do with his freedom.
Oh, he raced for the squirrel,
chased a squirrel,
but now he is tired,
devoid of ideas, and lonely,
jowly imploring face
staring through the glass.
The chain tugged him
all through the grass.
Not recognizing my face,
he makes his way up the street,
to lie on his front step
and wait for the blue car,
the harried master
to see the chain,
swat his nose,
and tie him up.
"Good dog!"
Thomas D. Reynolds received an MFA in creative writing from Wichita State University, currently teaches at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, Kansas, and has published poems in various print and online journals, including New Delta Review, Alabama Literary Review, Aethlon-The Journal of Sport Literature, Flint Hills Review, The MacGuffin, The Cape Rock, The Pedestal Magazine, Eclectica, Strange Horizons, Combat, 3rd Muse Poetry Journal, and Ash Canyon Review.