The German Shepherd

by Peter Notehelfer


The German shepherd
at the bend in the drive
has come to know my voice
Even more than my voice
has come to expect me 

Early each morning
he lies in the wet grass
at the end of his long chain
awaiting my dark shadow
to emerge out of night

Was a time when
my scent would cause
his hair to stand up erect
lips to curl a dark snarl
voice to breathe death

We began to talk then
Actually I talked He listened
uncertain of my frame of mind
of my pity for things chained
what leash might be mine

As days passed into weeks
his charge on the chain eased
He showed less teeth less breath
Once I even saw his tail wag
But only once & not far

He lies there now
in the wet grass waiting
not even lifting his head as I pass
but eyes locked like a scope
on my shadow passing


One Comment to “The German Shepherd”

  1. my favorite breed – damn the chains

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