The Divine Old dog will not be patronized,

for her incompleteness, for her age,

by people who would pity her,

and feel themselves superior.

The Divine Old Dog rushes to the door,

demands to go out in the snow,

rushes to the whole where she knows

the woodchuck is hiding,

waits for him to come out,

so she can pounce,

challenges the other dog to play,

though she cannot run and jump,

lies down in the snow,

though her legs tremble,

and her wood stove is inside,

just a few feet away.

The other dogs rush to the door,

running from the wind, and the storm,

The Divine Old Dog looks away from them,

in contempt,

the snow thickening on her dark coat,

she looks back at the woodchuck hole.

The Divine Old Dog will not be measured,

by man,

or circumstance.

 

or patronized.