Saturday, September 12, 2015

object

Dachshund

The Dachshund knick-knack
appears too long for reality,
brown painted fur, stretched out
on a patch of ceramic grass.
I bought it at a yard sale
my neighbor’s family held
after she passed to the next life.

I’ll miss her round figure,
black frizzy hair, brown eyes,
bustling about, in motherly voice
calling after her “babies.”
I remember the time
her house about burned down
while she tried to save them.

And the time I got up on my roof
to paint the gables purple,
but I was afraid to come down
with no one holding the ladder.
She was in her yard,
so I had her call my daughter,
who came out laughing.

And the time she baked us brownies
in appreciation for cutting down trees
that blocked the sunlight to her house.
I don’t know what happened
to the real little yippers,
but the knick-knack
will always remind me of her.

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