my poems on Minerva Rising blog!



header_20140213For those of you who follow the publishing fortunes of modest poems, take a moment to read a few related by a writing prompt which follows the entry. See Minerva Rising’s blog from last Friday, on which they graciously call the group “To Dance Face to Face.” And then, hey! try the prompt yourself and post, either here on MR in the comments. Always curious to see how others interpret and treat prompts like this!!!

relay dog


She scoops a stick, bounds forward
tail arcing excitement overhead
as she snuffles, drops stick

for twig, flips it upward
twists to catch, turning
her head as she lurches forward

drops it to sniff and grab
a chunk of log, carries it aloft
despite its bulk, pauses

to place it groundward, one paw
holding it firm, the other
her; catches sight

of a fully dressed branch, leaves
the log for this new delight
crossing the threshold of home
head held high, eyes alight.


zen dog

credit - swb

credit – swb

We’re nearing the end of the collection “Dog Days” with today’s post. While I continue to write about my faithful canine companion, I have yet to try writing in her voice. But we certainly have had our raucous romps and quiet cuddles throughout the years. I am so grateful for her in my life. As much as I rescued her, she has in many ways done the same for me.


Short attention span,
some would say of she who can
hold my gaze as long as I ask

but flits from scent to tree
to moving hand, eager
to be the one to greet

to initiate encounters
of frolic and speed;
throw a ball

and she runs quick as silver
but once there, turns
to the flowers, or from the child

equally planted there.
It comes to me now – she
lives with beginner’s mind

is the only one of us
truly present
moment to moment.



ball dog

Loki meets woodchuck

I was trying to get her to pose for a photo with the ball in her mouth, as I can never catch it on the fly. She would have none of it; and only then did I realize that we were not alone in the yard. I’m not sure which of the three of us was more surprised!

As the dog days of summer are closing in, so am I nearing the end of this collection by the same name. I hope you have enjoyed these few poetic renderings of the antics of my beloved rescue dog and her quirky ways.

There are just a few left. Please do let me know what you think of them – did you laugh, cry, recall a favored canine of your own? Do these jottings make you wish for a dog, make you happy you do not have one? wish for time to wander vast fields and cornfields by the sea with nothing calling you but pen/keyboard? Do they bring up something else entirely??? Do tell!!!


Despite her heritage, retrieving
a tossed ball seems relevant
only from water;

even then, it’s merely a rescue
from the deep, closely guarded
back on land. Sometimes

it seems she feels responsible
to keep the landscape pure
of random tennis balls

clearly not organic to the land.
How else explain her pride
at her personal sport

of scrounging deep in wild field
or thickly rooted woodsy glen
to emerge, triumphant

ball in mouth. She’d be no asset
to a team demanding consistency
but loves the challenge of sniff-
and-carry-out from obscurity.