Behind For Another Day
by Diane Webster



Punching holes in the ice
in the dog’s water bucket
with the curve-handled pipe
punch, punch, punch
like an old man with his cane
plodding down the sidewalk
as children surround him
in a pack of wolves whirl
snapping at his sleeves,
kicking at his cane…
punch, punch, punch
as if to fracture each sidewalk square
into spider web cracks
“Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.”
echoes from his mind to child…
punch, punch, punch
like an old dog’s chomping
that leaves the pack behind
for another day at least.





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