Michael Estabrook on the Other Side of the
poop along the woodland trail
Walking in the woods
the first snow
of this year thick on the ground
and bristling in the trees,
say to my wife,
hidden beneath with her cute black hat,
like one of those hats the Peruvian Indians
wear as they climb
the Andes herding goats,
"I'm thinking of sacrificing some
of my poetry-writing time
for trying to make some money writing,
for a change.
I sent my writing resume to one
of those Internet writing houses,
I guess you call them."
The dog scratches in the snow trying
to bury his ball, he's always
trying to bury his ball.
"So what do you think?
I mean, my poetry-writing time is precious,
but we could use the money."
"I think it's a good idea," she says,
as the dog drops the ball at my feet,
begs for a treat, which he always does
after he has made a poop
along the woodland trail.
© Copyright Michael Estabrook 2007