Close-up image of a very good dog's face, at the dog's nose and leading up to the dog's eyes. Like all dogs, the dog is good.

After a night of seizures & heat lightning,
the old dog fights sleep, frightened by

auras, I imagine, flicker behind her
copper eyes like a gas-blue flame.

I am also fighting sleep, watching her
pace the room like a drunk, pausing

every few minutes to tilt her head
& listen to apparitions. She leans

into me again, her body stiff, except
for one speckled ear, delicately folded

like an origami crane. Her white lashes
glow in the light of the television as

my own body hums. We sleep beneath
a cloud of worry, wait for the next storm.


Photo by Canine to Five, used and adapted under CC.