January 16, 2008
I wish he would hurry.
The summer heat is unbearable here,
In this old, musty car.
I can’t sit on the burning leather,
Not in this accursed weather.

My ears are buzzing with noises---
Discordant sounds in the parking lot.
I hear kids screaming, mothers yelling,
Carts crashing and drivers honking.

What’s taking him so long at the store?
Has he been whisked away by the baker?
Has he fallen into a bottomless abyss of cheese?
Perhaps he lost his way in the aisles of peas?

I finally spot him emerging from the sliding doors.
Pushing a loaded cart, here he comes!
I push my nose out of the window and gave a merry bark.
If only he knew how much a black dog suffers on a summer day!

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