The teeth

I dream a dog,
large, yellow, short-chained
to the rear wall of my house,
in sun, rain,
starlight, lunging
and snarling. Its man comes
and goes. I can stand the days,
I say, but at night
can’t you keep it
at yours? He doesn’t answer.
I can’t get past the teeth
to loosen the chain.

First published in PPC Covid Drum 13, June 2020

What do you think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.