A Man, A Dog, A Field

The man looks a decade beyond his years
The dog far fewer than hers
The fields are eternal.

The widower with dog lives
in front of, not in the sticks
is different from his neighbors
though he shares their bad grammar
and owns a few guns.
The fields crawl with coyotes he frightens
to save the feral cats.

The man lost interest in everything
except cigarettes and wine
the dog stayed interested in the man
the gardens went to ruin.

The man and dog exist amidst the
things she left behind: clothing, books
sickly yellow plants: aloe, alone, thrives.
Statues of sightless angels
can nothing revive.

TV somewhat comforts the man
as does the loyal dog.
the man walks stooped and wounded
but grins if force-fed smiles
the lands lust greedily
when rare dense clouds collide.

The man is stronger than he knows
The dog knows nothing of woe
The fields feels nothing whatsoever

But could someday birth a rose.

Copyright Julianza Shavin 2008