While I took the dog for a walk,
the wind blew cold and bitter
for such a sunny-blue day.
The week’s temperature swings wrecked
my sinuses, and I smelled nothing
of the early spring; the stiff
wind kept it away besides.
The Collie runs ahead, tail
and nose high, stops and stands
at the length of his tether,
awaits me expectantly
to catch up and pass so he
can run again; this repeats
for our entire trek.
He needs the open farm
and pasture we do not possess;
I feel his yearning
in the taut leash, in the perked
ears and proud black and white
tail. If he were self-aware,
would he sue for freedom?
Would he loose himself against
the government, bring another
Civil War? I would. I would.