1st Annual Poems About Pets Month
Flying Lessons

I gasped when I stared at it
like a new toy I’d broken.

Prodding it with my slingshot
I pried red feathers open.

Bare-handed I’d clawed the dirt
‘til I’d dug a shallow hole,

then covered up the dark spot
with dead leaves and a large stone.

Thin blades push green from under
the stone, stretching for the light.

They flap, and flare, and flutter
as if trying to take flight.

An amalgamation of "lessons": I. My older brother actually did the killing.  II. We all felt guilty as hell, yet this S. is mostly fictional, as a bridge to... III. I still have the stone that my son and I used as a headstone for a dead bird that we buried, many, many years ago.  Revised from the original, this one is 7 syllable lines, with slant end rhymes, and not about a pet, obviously, but it just happened to come to mind.
Canine Lie Detector

It’s not the heat
it’s the stupidity
my madman serendipity
when I stumble
and dance to that beat. 

I keep it well hidden
and strangers tell me
I’m laid back
when I’m really a hack
of certified deformity.

Only my dog knows me
and his eyes don’t cheat.
Only he can speak clearly
and tell me sincerely
the truth of my duplicity.
“All persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.”  Kurt Vonnegut

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