Biscuit

The dog has cleaned his bowl
and his reward is a biscuit,
which I put in his mouth
like a priest offering the host.

I can't bear that trusting face!
He asks for bread, expects
bread, and I in my power
might have given him a stone.

by Jane Kenyon

Comments (2)

Beautiful. Am I the only one to find amazing wonder in these simple yet deep words?
Interesting little poem this, about power and how it offends us because we know we misuse it at times. However I know you wouldn't give your poor doggy a stone.....or would you? ; o)))) Ruthie