← v11n1, Spring 2012
Poetry · Volume 11, Number 1

Natural Distances

We let the dog run on the beach.

It was our beach.

He looked askance at the ocean.

He hated the waves.

Where did they come from?

Why wallop him?

But it was our beach;

he played along with us

until we went too deep,

and as we waved to him

he seemed to say a prayer.