A Soldier's March
His house sits empty and still as
the melody of his favorite classical sonata
dances through open spaces.
On a blue sofa pushed against
the bay window overlooking
empty suburban streets. He stands
attentive at his perch. Through his spotted gaze
he switches between muted growls
and anxious whimpers directed at passing cars
and the thumping of his
own pointed ears.
He masquerades on stubbed legs
decorated by tufts of grey fur,
poking from his rear like peacock feathers.
Engaging in a Lieutenant’s march,
Left, Left, Left, Right, Left
Waddle, Waddle, Right, Left
Tumble, Chin-Up, Tongue Out, Shoulders Back
The soldier fights the urge to sleep
as his head sinks into a plush pillow.
An easy battle in his youth now
becomes a challenge as his stiff legs weigh
down on him like wet sand.
The trickle of melodic violins delivers
a final blow knocking him out
into a deep slumber,
as the front door swings open.