No Kill Kennel
I know
the neighbor’s dog lives in the weather:
rain/mud, snow/sleet, hot/cold.
I know
when the dog stops just short
of its five foot chain, it wants to roll
in the grass, smell the green of the horse’s meadow,
drink from the clear stream.
I know
the dog was forced to live in its foul soilings.
I cannot
watch the filmed appeals to save this dog, this cat, this horse.
I can
walk the kennel dogs,
listen to the dry leaves crackle.
to be published in The Homestead Review Spring of 2015
