for Milo

I wish to write this for my dog.

I wish to write it into the sniffing language he understands,

to chase it into the proper sequence of circles and stairhops,

to tell him how he sounds on approach

to our next battered front door.

I wish to offer an overloud greeting in more than tone, than in pitching,

gather desperately in my arms the gleaming copper gaze

flooding the room’s corners,

wail back my praise with twin vigor that I hear him as my heel does a splinter―

the yelp of a nerve struck, and for a moment made known.

Paw placed in my hand like the bird he pursues,

stouthearted,

in the new yard, gestured vocabulary

hanging from my palm in its still tangle, the feathered unfathomable.

I wish to murmur promises, but I have learned this one lesson

of his beaming curriculum.

I want to yowl this raucous joy for the both of us

And cry together that Yes! We are together!