September 13, 2024.


he bit me

"He doesn't have a mean bone in his body,"
that’s what his mother had told me.
"Maybe not, but all his bones can break so easily,
and dogs, when wounded, snarl and show their teeth—
It doesn’t change the fact that he bit me."

So I’ve attached a leash, created distance, kept him astray.
Puppy dog eyes and pathetically whining—
grow to growling when he doesn’t get his way.
Everyone says just to let him go, but he knows my scent.
Dogs have a tendency to return to where they lived.



Poetry by aidan haskel The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2024-09-13 at 08:40

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alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
I could reformulate you little text with my own words

we didn't change the nature of the dog
we trimmed his canines
2024-09-13