Awake.

•18•

My zabuton doubles as a dog bed.  Rose sleeps
there, full the fur with mu.  Glanced in
on a moonlit night; her slight white figure coiled
on the green cushion, shaking with quail dreams.
Sensing me, an eye opens, single tail wag.  Back to
sleep.
When she's awake, she's so awake I'm ashamed
of my own warm water dance, my sitting too long at
the fire.

- Jim Harrison