I’d like to get a dog.
I think I would -
if it weren’t for the elephants;
if it weren’t for tricking them out
all the time for hide and seek,
the exhaustion of dress rehearsal,
memorizing lines and stage fright.
So many costumes;
starched collars or petticoats –
so many syllables to hide
in the camouflage,
in a hint, a glimpse, a glance –
or the play would end,
the house go dark.
A dog will tell the truth.
Elephants don’t talk,
just rub against my legs,
lick my face, follow my lead –
doggedly discreet; who sees them
plunk a paw on my knee
when the curtain lifts,
when the lights go up – warning me.
I used to love hide and seek,
but I remember now
that we had to lock the dog up;
he never learned to play.
He gave us all away – first thing –
barking out our hiding places!
Lynette Shelley, Google Images