Poem-A-Day: Day 336

Dog Looks

A dog looked at me today
through the window of a moving car.
The dog was far happier than I was,
but the dog wasn’t behind the wheel,
the dog was sitting in the passenger seat.
There’s no anxiety in being a passenger,
not like the driver, and the dog sat there.
The dog sat there godlike,
godless, peering through a window,
looking at me from a moving car.
I was behind the wheel, the dog was not.
But the dog’s expression told me things,
it told me of conspicuous pains unheard of,
and the questions of life, not telling me why
a dog looked at me.