For Sasha - My Almost Blind But Seeing Eye Dog

I’ve learned a lot

From Sasha

My nearly sightless bitch

By cataracts afflicted

And boon companion

For the last few years

When she heads

Out the front door

She hesitates not

The slightest bit

But onward she charges

To smell and bump

Into the world largely

Without regard

For all the terrible things

About to happen

And so too I should like to

Proceed about my business

With sight likewise occluded

Speaking not of the outer two

But solely of the inner eye

Through which vision is

But dim and intermittent

Yet not to be deterred

In the least from continuing

To bump and grope

My way about

Stout of heart for as

Long as I’m able


*  *  *  *  *

The Puritans fancied

We are all like

An old blind dog

Lying underneath

The blacksmith’s table

Oblivious to damnation

Even amidst the sparks and clangs

From each anvil burst

I see the simile too

Walking down the street

With Sasha as she bangs

Along cranium first

Knocking into lamp-posts

Scaffolding poles and

Hefty sac garbage bags

Piled high by the curb

It’s just how

An old blind dog

Navigates through

Life’s many dangers

Finding her way

And giving us

A clear glimpse
Of our own future

*  *  *  *  *

And I can see her 

As she stood outside

On the front lawn

Just the other day

Her muzzle cocked

Her coat riffling

In the breeze still

With a pure delectation of spring

Coursing through her veins

Sasha at rest