Labrador Retriever

for Jean Valentine, in response to “Labrador”

The gnarled snarl drew my attention from my rusty trowel in the dust
To the dog, alone, stuck on the tracks
Kicking bits of gravel, maniacal and thrashing.

There was a girl in a long yellow leather coat walking away from him.
As I approached the dog, pity dared me nearer.
Saliva spattered from his wrinkled black lips

Showed teeth that could tear my flesh in a moment—I heard a whistle
Down the line and saw smoke rise and billow
Around the bend of steel and timber

But he would not let me near. Fearing the worst, I hit him over the head
With a nearby cracked & splintered tree branch
And freed & saved his limp & unconscious body

From the grille of the approaching locomotive.
I took him home and called him my own.

©2000, M. Patterson Porterfield, from The Poetry Society of Virginia – 80th Anniversary Anthology

The Preacher Said
for The Poetry Society of Virginia

©2001, M. Patterson Porterfield