Poetry: Last dog at the dog park

You and me and the fenced-in
faux hydrant. Private land gone
public. Half-field. Half-lawn.
Here in Middlebury. Where
you wouldn’t think we’d need
a half-acre of closed space.
For you to run around, eat,
do your daily business.
We owners take account of.
Making sure no one forgets.
Doesn’t look to see what’s
incumbent on each of us to see,
pick up and save inside a plastic,
inside-out bag. Dispose
in a worthy cannister.
Tonight one of our town’s
citizens will volunteer
to empty. Make her rounds
in the prickly darkness.
Before this weekend comes
and sits, eager to surround
the park. This Friday afternoon,
it’s just you and me, the braided
leash between us.   
Gary Margolis

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