Give me land
lots of land
under starry skies above
keep your dogs
and your cats
in your homes
and your yards
please fence them in
While I ponder
why my garden
once again
fails to thrive
the tartar-yellowed dog
dully, duly, dutifully
crosses from his pristine yard
to mark his pissted cross in mine
what say you
when spring comes
snow leaves
ice melts
on leaves
piles
November December January
February and March
his gifts to me
will be returned to sender
The Road Less Paved 