[Stylist] prose poem for poetry month

[Jackie]

Anne,
This is a wonderful poem especially for those of us without dogs, who do not
get the total experience of having a guide dog, and feeling the closeness,
the emotion, or the companionship of another being at our fingertips.
Your words bring it so alive.
Jacqueline Williams

Clarity is just questioning having eaten its fill.
     Jenny Xie


-----Original Message-----
From: Stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Ann
Chiappetta via Stylist
Sent: Sunday, April 14, 2019 9:38 AM
To: 'Writers' Division Mailing List' <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: Ann Chiappetta <anniecms64 at gmail.com>
Subject: [Stylist] prose poem for poetry month

311 words

Dog B

By Ann Chiappetta

 

1.

The cold air numbs cheeks, harness weaves me down the sidewalk. The
instructor is a "Good Juno," or a "Bad Juno," depending on her whim.  Spring
has been delayed, so has the transition. I ached for the dog left behind,
hope and excitement have a power-play with my heart and stomach.

 

2.

Waiting for the sound of paws on the ground, the metal whisper of tags.  I
grip the leash so hard it hurts.  The traffic flows past, businesses open
doors, routines are comforts. I am reminded in minutes I will be receiving a
new partner to begin and end each day, a new partner to share new routines.
A large head and wet nose greet me. I position myself, say "forward,". We
fly.

 

3

This is the place I sat before, six years ago, waiting. New, the same,
different; Jumbles and jangles of nerves leak out. The same doubts on this
day fester, Even more evocative. I know the past -- What if we don't make
it?  I am praying that we make it.  A knock, excited nose touches my hand,
licks fingers, Snuffles me. "Oh, boy, he's big," I hear myself say. I clip
on the leash, still stiff and new and get acquainted with dog number two. I
know, without asking, he is the dog I flew with yesterday.

4.

Post Script: two years later

He is a sweet yellow fellow, toasted darker on ears and tail tip. He gives a
nibble and a sniff; golden eyes Better than cash. He comes with a snow nose
and personality to match. He's tall and silly, works, wags, and licks -- So
far no one's gotten ticked when he sneaks a kiss. Guiding, alert and looking
for sights and scent, on the bus and on the street. Freedom with four feet.

 

For Bailey, 2019

 

 

 

Ann Chiappetta, M.S.

Author & Consultant

 <http://www.annchiappetta.com> www.annchiappetta.com

 
<https://www.amazon.com/gp/r.html?C=Z9SQXHR9LXA4&M=urn:correios:msg:20171130
234501b100607b0d1546379d4571b5f1e0p0na&R=1AGOVS1WQU0RS&T=C&U=https%3A%2F%2Fw
ww.amazon.com%2Fauthor%2Fannchiappetta%3Fref_%3Dpe_1724030_132998060&A=QANHT
SRK0SI7IXHTMMFYYPQFHH8A&H=XA5QNH9QOJ0XQKUD7AAYGEEUJ8MA&ref_=pe_1724030_13299
8060> https://www.amazon.com/author/annchiappetta

Face Book: Annie Chiappetta/Twitter: Anniedungarees/Instagram: annie_bird_64

LinkedIn: Ann Chiappetta Iona College/Blog:  <http://www.thought-wheel.com/>
www.thought-wheel.com/

 

"The imagination imitates. It is the critical spirit that creates." ` Oscar
Wilde

 

 

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