My Dog Is the Color of Hardwood Floors

My dog is literally the color of hardwood floors, which inspired the line that inspired this poem.

My dog is the color of hardwood floors

The shade absorbed on Sunday afternoons

Light coming through the holes that he bores

While he lies on the floor, waiting.

 

My dog is the color of metal bars

The sheen absorbed on Tuesday evenings

Vibrations of his jail shaking the stars

As he squirms against the bar, panicking.

 

My dog is the color of splotchy grass

The stain absorbed on Monday mornings

Hysterics through reliving the past

Mommy has left him, shaking.

 

My dog is the color of hardwood floors

But the tints scatter in tail wags and kisses

Happiness running deep down to his core

While the colors remain, lingering.

Author's Note

I wrote this two years ago (2013), and everyone who reads it seems to like it better than I do...anyway, critiques are always welcome!