Books & Poems

All I Can Do

I am the reason someone gets up
in the morning; I am the Red Cross Dog

and I notice how the country heaves
with unrest, how right before snow falls

the air smells like lightning (it’s then
I dream of cut grass and flying stars)–

all the while, there is that deep rumble
in the distance, and even though I am minding

my own business and even though there is someone
telling me “Red Cross Dog, I know you’ll help me

find my way back home,” I cannot forget
that my country is falling and I cannot pick

it up. I cannot do this.

 

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