Future Dog

Future Dog wags
her tail in the passenger
seat of Future Car, which
can pull 3,500 pounds,

the weight of Future
Camper plus a buffer
against the life
we are leaving,  my old

cat dead and cremated,
like her brother before;
likewise my mother,
like my father before;

their ashes placed in
Future Car for the long trip
back to their childhoods, where
I will scatter

evidence of their
lives, then drive into
evidence of my own,
Future Dog perfect

as she always was, tail
wagging, but me a creature
cleansed, made new
and wholly curious,

memory not even
a memory — Future Car
has no rearview mirror —
and regret an armpit of

a town I’ll never
again visit, looking instead
toward the possibility
around every curve.

We will drive until we exhaust
our senses, make mistakes I
am incapable of lamenting.
In some unmapped place, I

will fall in love with Future Girl,
the old foolishness of
the young. This time, it
works.  But we must leave:

Future Dog and I want to
see Niagara Falls,
where Joseph Cotton
loved Marilyn Monroe

in Technicolor. A roar
and thrill on both sides of
Rainbow Bridge, just
waiting for us: me and

Future Dog, driving and
driving into our present lives.







  1. Love it! Future Dog and beautiful sunrises await.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah… she’s back. And so very creative w/ just a touch of whimsy, making the tabu subjects seem as shootin’ the bull. Miss you fiercely.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Miss you, too! We have a spectacular snowy morning here, perfect for a
      Manitou creek walk. Happy, happy new year!


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