There was a dog

There was a dog
By Tara Pryzbille Bradley
I like to think
that he liked to think of himself
as ‘Rex’
and he was gentle
and soft
and black
One day
Rex found a frog
in his yard
(probably because he lived
by a creek)
Immediately upon sniffing the frog
Rex understood
that jumping frogs
were exciting
(as we all know
jumping frogs are)
Rex’s head bobbed up
and bobbed down
as he watched the frog
and followed the frog
Soon the frog
got a bit tired
and sat still
Rex didn’t want the frog
to sit still
because sitting still is
not exciting
So Rex nudged the frog
with his nose
and the frog jumped
and Rex followed
and nudged again
and bounce went
the frog
and Rex barked
and Rex pounced
ever so lightly upon
the frog
and the frog bounced
and this became a
Very Fun Game
Dog: nudge
Frog: bounce
Dog: bark
Dog: pounce
Frog: bounce
Dog: nudge
Frog: bounce
Dog: bark
Dog: pounce
Frog: bounce
I like to think Rex
liked to think
this was only in fun
Frog started to slow down
his bounces got slower
and lower
Confused at this change of pace
Rex would gently tilt
his soft black head
and nudge the slow frog
and nudge the low frog
After all this
the frog stopped
just stopped dead
in Rex’s tracks
Rex nudged
and pounced
and barked and barked and barked
to wake up that frog
the way Rex tilted his head
was sad
but the frog just wouldn’t move
So Rex softly
gently(as Rex is)
picked up in his
that very still frog
tossed his head
and let go
The frog
for the first time in its very short life
and (as is customary) landed
and didn’t move
so Rex barked hopefully
and nudged encouragingly
but yet that
slow, low, still stopped frog
did not move
Sadly Rex took it up in his mouth
and tossed
and the frog was
airborne again
grounded again
over and over
still dead
that frog was
I like to think
Rex liked to think
that frog
played dead

0 thoughts on “There was a dog

  1. I always enjoy and get a lot out of reading a Tara P.B piece! I immediately recognized a “Dick-Jane” style here that made me long with nostalgia those forgotten childhood days of simplicity–the black/white either/or ragamuffin rusings void of such dizzying detail plunged into adulthood paying bills, credit cards, and fighting with the insurance companies. Or is adolescence a humorously (?) barbaric pathfinding-place getting us ready for something more civilized? That’s just what goes on in my head and is not necessarily a theme intended by the author…
    In any case, I appreciated the succinct lines/delivery in this poem as opposed to a block style–it tumults graciously in smooth staccato eloquence. THX!!!

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