A poem not intended to be about immigration

We put a dog dish in the backyard,
a big-dog bowl, not far from that dog’s grave.

Shady, we called her, a rescue,
stolen really,
chain cut from the crack house
where she was a guard dog –
sweetest tempered dog we ever had
except for that deeply ingrained,
(beaten in)
defense response to anyone
appearing to be in police uniform
(here’s looking at you, FedEx).

Shade’s bowl is out there,
and the birds come in this dry season,
the ground hog humps his belly up
heavy with Louise’s vegetables
(something else stolen).
The fox kits are there, a deer,
more birds,
once a wandering cat
(no birds for two days),
a runaway dog, the kits again.

It’s a simple thing –
turning a memory into kindness.

I live in a nation where much abundance
has come from stealing.
I guess it’s guilt
that makes us feel threatened
to share a bowl of water.

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5 Responses to A poem not intended to be about immigration

  1. This spoke to me. Thank you for sharing this.

  2. Maren says:

    I wish you were here to photograph our visitors.

  3. Positively Provocative and Inspiring!

  4. Pingback: Friday Festival ~ Immigration and Families Edition – RevGalBlogPals

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