began on the quiet front porch,
coffee, berries, notebook
till too much sun
drove me to the back yard, beneath the trees
with coffee , berries, notebook
and the dog.
In the dappled light, I think
oh, what a summertime phrase it is—
‘dappled light’
and there is the seed of a morning poem
But
he has tangled
his long leash
again
by circling
from me to fish pond fountain to apple tree
to metal shed with its tantalizing scent
of woodchuck, past the clothesline and back to me.
His is a walking meditation
I untangle him
again. The third time, I threaten
to Put Him In The House
direst of dire and empty threats.
He circles, offers a damp toy
and his hopeful, goofy face
No, I say. No. I am writing and meditating, damn it.
Can’t you see how contemplative I am?
He drops the toy
on my foot
barks once
and wags his whole body
happy, happy, happy
Puff Of Smoke Poems 