Posted by: Peadar Ban | January 19, 2018

Mark and Rudy

When Mark and Rudy went walking by

With Rudy on the leash

They left a double trail

Through the virgin snow.

 

The sun was barely risen

Shining weakly through the trees.

The river at the bottom of the hill

Flowed, clear of ice, peacefully, nearly still

While west beyond the railroad tracks, night

Sank behind the city and disappeared.

 

I wasn’t there.  Night, when I showed up,

Was gone beyond returning.  Another one would

Come along soon enough.  Soon enough. I

Thought.  For me, never soon enough, who am

Wide awake before the first bird sings.

 

Except this morning.  They were all well up

And about bird business when I arrived

In wonder at the light; rosy dawn gone,

Busy day well on under winter sun.

 

Mark’s a big man with a beard, was in the

Coast guard, flies a flag, believes in True God.

Rudy, his dog, getting old, is territorial.

Dogs get that way, and people too, sometimes

When they reach a certain age.  Habitual

Too.  Every morning the two of them walk

The same route, the same way, the same time,

No matter the weather or temperature.

 

No eager puppies bounding, or bright eyed

young boys pass by my house each waking day

While I, though vigilant, need not worry

To warn them if they stray.  As I must the

Thieving squirrels, scampering chipmunks, grackle hordes

Summer brings, and a thousand other things.

 

All year long Mark and Rudy come and go.

Appearing, passing, like time, the wind, snow

In whose newly fallen cover, their tracks,

Evidence of their early going by,

Mark outside.  And Rudy, always ready

To warn a passing soul with low growls and

Loud barks behind his closed doors what danger

Waits within, is just a slender track

In sparkling snow falling throughout the night, kaleidoscope

Of tiny jewels full now in the light

Dazzling eyes and soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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