In praise of black dogs

In Praise of Black Dogs

I am in favor of personal superstitions.

Not the kind Granma mumbles

Or the stuff of fright-night movies

But the ones that grow on you

When you notice which incidents in a day

Are shadows cast by something ahead

And get to know which clues from the world

Are reliable road signs.

I think a black dog, if friendly,

Is always a good omen

And could be a god traveling in disguise.

Some days you don’t have to figure this out.

At the door of possibility on San Francisco Bay

A black dog crossed my path.

His walker, a ruddy man in a red pixie hat,

Told me the dog’s name is Pollo,

Short for Apollo.

I have a black dog of my own.

His name is Nubie, short for Anubis.

He lives in my dreams

And takes on many bodies in the world.

- from my collection Here, Everything Is Dreaming: Poems and Stories. Published by Excelsior/State University of New York Press

 Photo: with my beloved black dogs, at the farm, in 1986.