Charlie stares at the faraway lights,
winking back out of the dark sky
with stories to tell: the long leash
leftover from the First Walk,
the leg laying languidly on the horizon
like an invitation, the Frisbee
spinning away toward dawn
and beyond the reach of even
the great outstretched jaws
of the Creator. The crescent moon
fills the food bowl, lighting the way
for both the trickster raven
in the west, and the thieving squirrel
in the south, stealing stars one by one
as they streak across the black.
The stick glows where it was thrown
by the Great Hand to the east,
teasing from an incredible distance
legs can’t cross. The devilish cat sashays
just out of sight, but all these tales
will once again give way to that Bright Ball
which chases each morning alive.
Robert Wynne earned his MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University. A former co-editor of Cider Press Review, he has published 6 chapbooks, and 3 full-length books of poetry, the most recent being “Self-Portrait as Odysseus,” published in 2011 by Tebot Bach Press. He’s won numerous prizes, and his poetry has appeared in magazines and anthologies throughout North America. He lives in Burleson, TX with his wife and 2 rambunctious dogs. His online home is http://www.rwynne.com.
Categories: Poetry
Tags: constellations, Constellations for Dogs, dogs, myths, Night, Robert Wynne, star gazing, stars
Melancholy Hyperbole 