Dogs In Cubicles Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

In forest
Greyhounds had gathered
Their masters on horses and in race

Gun blew
Birds’ flocks were free
Some fell-dead ‘The end of Freedom’

Back at home
Licking dog felt the sand
Metacarpal complained of itching.

Sand to sand:
“I was rock now here.”
Both sands laughed as drunks.

“Let’s shut up.”
Sand murmured in their tongue.
“We were rocks in mountains now nothing in dog’s paw.”

“Oh Doctor,
Something’s wrong with its paw.”
Owner said, half-worried but assured; his demand.

“Specialized…”
One sand laughed when talking.
“They’re slaves in cubicles; ‘the hunter and doctor’.

“I can see”
Other dog gave reply.
“From mountains to rivers and that lake; experience…”

Door opened
Man came in, called the dog.
Dog wagged tail, mouth open and tongue licked.

“We fell but…”
Unfinished, came a sound “Yet still living with dignity and pride”