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This poem is taken from PN Review 178, Volume 34 Number 2, November - December 2007.

Three Poems Jason Ranon Uri Rotstein

The Poet's Dog

When I discourage
I arrive at the poet's house,
Crunching the fallen twigs under foot
To alert the poet's dog to start barking and scratching;
Signalling to the both of us that it's time to do that best
         and most difficult thing.

When I first met the dog in writing class,
She was convalescing from a heart operation.
Eleven years old - eleven pills a day,
Just to do her time;
Sleeping on the poet's lap with tears in her eye.

After, in the poet's office,
She ran around the small expanse,
Searching for her water bowl;
Then scratching at my stonewashed jeans
To efface one of the new ever-forgettable fads springing up

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