Playing with My Dog
©January 8th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
It’s water leaping into the air
Catching light and tossing it up.
It’s laughter and growls
And scurrying and skittering
And funny mock-battles.
It’s being willing to shed
Time and dignity
And be utterly free.
It’s letting go of dead weights
Encircling ankles, gripping me
By the neck.
It’s saying, Yes, death waits
But I will simply be
Right here, right now.
This is what it means
To play with my dog.
I will play.
And sing.
I will tug at my dog’s toy
And bring her joy.
I will leap and pirouette
And jump and spin.
For, at the end of the day
After all the news and the din
Of competing stories, voices
People tapping at my head
Waiting to get in,
There is just this:
Time narrowing down:
A living room, a rectangle
Of wood and light,
Colors and music,
And a dog with
Rubber chicken in mouth
Growling happily while I
Tug and pull and play.
And we leap around each other,
All existence sharpened
To this point. None else.
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