Sky Dogs

the dogs are in the sky

in the clouds

the colors are their sniffing ground

I walk with them  wild openness

nothing tethered

their playing field

is pure changeability

from one moment to the next


the sky dogs roam

but in their roaming

come home again and again

never leaving the vastness

of their infinitude

bedding down only

in the thunder and

the lightning


howling and braying

cascading down the gorge

the tender-footed ones

follow the light traces

wings of birds


the calls of coyotes

and bright cactus flowerings


they dig

and dig deeper

into my being

pirouettes and thermals

carrying me to the

outer atmosphere

beyond any longing

swimming a rarified ocean


and as I follow

will I tip onto the other side

even imagining

another side

has the weight of

pretend and posture

this vastness holds

no bars on any spiral









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