My Dog is a Three-letter Spell
Listen to Annick read her poem ...
faith turned fur, an incantation. I am sure he can fly, especially at night, across rabbit-blooming fields, across pasta valleys, over tripe rivers, sausage mountains. He can hear mice dreaming, he is one step ahead, then ten.
My dog is a prayer, all ears, all joy, all yes. When it´s hot, it´s hot, when it´s cold it´s cold. Food is love is being there is breathing. The world does not have to be complicated.
My place in his heart is at least as wide and loud as the fridge door opening.
My dog is this moment, is present, is a lesson in here.
He owes me nothing. I owe him cheese. I owe him joy.
My dog is a prayer, all ears, all joy, all yes. When it´s hot, it´s hot, when it´s cold it´s cold. Food is love is being there is breathing. The world does not have to be complicated.
My place in his heart is at least as wide and loud as the fridge door opening.
My dog is this moment, is present, is a lesson in here.
He owes me nothing. I owe him cheese. I owe him joy.
This poem is copyright (©) Annick Yerem 2024
About the Writer
Annick Yerem
Annick Yerem is a German/Scottish poet who lives in Berlin, where she goes for walks with her dog Yogi and tries to keep him from eating everything that’s on the ground. She likes to dance and is a huge fan of mince pies and hot cross buns. Sometimes she gets her poems published, in 2022 there will be a whole book of them with Hedgehog Press. She still can’t quite believe that.
