It was a good pup, running in front of traffic;
hungry, terrified, a slight breed with big eyes.
It's ears perked straight at my whistle between car horns.
It came when I squatted to the sidewalk along the park
on that early weekend morning I had danced til three.
It had a collar with the tags gone.
It sat at command barely able to contain
It's joy at obedience.
It wagged Its tail, wanted to leap
but sat again when I said "no".
I scratched It's neck,
patted It's head,
calmed It a bit.
It was in need of affection so badly,
It followed me a while,
long enough to let me worry
It wouldn't go away.
I could imagine It waiting at the door to my apartment
when I awoke about noon.
Then It was gone.
I couldn't wash It's smell
from my hands for at least three days.
It must have been ***** in heat.