ISIS
Isis was a beloved German shepherd, notable for her gentleness. Once commanded to stay, she would not budge until released with a whistle. Then she would fly to her humans in mere seconds. This poem captures the simple joys of wandering with her through Kansas flint hills.
“STAY…
You
Stay
There, Isis.”
Her eyes
engage
With twinkle
light,
While gold
Grass
Snaps to
Salute the sun,
Slapping my
Worn denim, as
I back from
Her butter eyes
Not budging;
Rather,
Her eyes stick
Solid
To my
Shrinking body,
And she settles,
Stoic, a
Coyote copy.
“You
Stay
THERE,” I
Shout stupidly
At her stare,
So steadfast.
Breezes
Wander
Between
The fields
And us,
Filling
The air with
Snap-Crackle-
Pop,
But she waits
While
Rocks
Rest
Under her chin,
Solid —
As if she knows
I won’t wait,
Even as
I twist to
Step ahead
And cross
Miles of
Misery.
Get Brent Green’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Lost, I
Switch back to
Toe and heel,
Watching
Her small
Simple shape,
Alone and
Aware, as I,
Of my
Offense…
And my lips,
Full of hush,
Purse dry
To blow the
Wind,
Sending
Shrill
Whistles
To fight
Flint hills
And finality.
Yet, from a
Million
Miles away,
Her ears twitch,
And she leaps
At silence
Like a Rabbit —
Whooooshhhh.
Through wheat and
Stubble
She flashes —
A prairie fire —
And seconds
Slice
Space
So suddenly.
Then, beneath
My boots
She squirms,
Whining a
Winsome
Welcome.
We walk,
Side by side,
Like shadows
Merging from
Sunset into
Starlight,
Me and Isis —
A wandering
Shepherd,
Soothing my
Spirit and
Married to
My memories
Forever.
