A Dog Named Pity

Through an oval frame of ivy

peers a portrait of fierce curiosity.

Trapped to be taunted, his bristles

are ever raised like porcupine quills.

He serves as witness to many a fight

through the transparency of his prison.

And studies the vines as they grow and

curl into symbolic spirals of sorrow.

Braving the rain, his hopes are doused

by the reality of his winter aloneness.

The pads of his paws bake in the sun

on a summer day, as he plays dead.

Balls soar and birds fly freely

on the other side of the stubborn fence.

And no one seems to know that

the dog exists, until one day…

He notices two little gypsies creeping

on their hands and knees along the base

of the great wall. They dig the perfect hole

in which to bury their sparkling treasure.

From a distance the dog shares in their

intrigue and vows to retain their secret.

He calls to them with a series of yips,

and they hear his language of loneliness.

The oval frame of ivy becomes a portal

between two separate worlds, and thus

two little girls form a tight kinship

with a dog named Pity.

Jennifer Burnside