Black Lab in Summer

Artwork by Alice Reid

The big black dog comes out and again we meet. 

He is meeker this time, panting in the scorching heat. 

(But alas, I am sad 

I am sad for my brother 

who wishes he had friends for the summer 

I am pained by the loss 

not of long lost, but of gone forever lovers 

I am hurting as I watch 

the shy teenager at the school dance 

And I am broken by the sight 

of hopeful children without a fighting chance) 

Smooth, silken fur that beckons, 

Pitiful eyes, the owner reckons 

He needs a trim, and I’d agree – 

But summertime blacks always grow on me. 

Out of some strange nostalgic loyalty, he 

Avoids the newfound shade of my tree. 

Instead, he circles and hounds 

At all the places and people I surround. 

While I notice he’s too big for his collar these days; 

Puppy love strikes and we’re both back to our old ways – 

But something in his approach has changed: 

A sponge, a vessel, to own I am each. 

Having bled all my blood, I search and I leach. 

No, I am not, no longer ever truly sad for me, 

But for those chased by the black dog they fail yet to see.