Our dog dreams
of barking,
of snuffling,
of running;
she shakes and
she murmurs;
she sings a
half a note.

Perhaps she
dreams of place—
of the park
where forest
marsh and beach
converge, her
favorite,
her dream place.

I’m sure she
dreams of you,
as I do—
of your joy
when coming
home, of your
silly songs, your
portmanteaus.

She and I
just may dream
the same dream
where we all
lay askew
together
no sound but
our breathing.

MB 4/16/2021

Our dog dreams
of barking,
of snuffling,
of running;