Zz 282 Ike The Dog

He licked my hand whenever I said yes,
obeyed commands as if they were the truth,
but was at least a wolf in eye and tooth,
therefore still ranging in a deep recess.

Somewhere, free of my love, he thought he’d roam
beyond my arms, fed full of my rewards,
til starved again and cold, and minded towards
migration south and memories of home,

came hunching back to dropp the broken leash
of loyalty, tell all about his wars,
how not a thing had changed, except to teach
our love’s unbounded til it takes the force—

and there’s that honor no pampering releases,
despite a master’s fury—of debt to species.

by Edward Wright Haile

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