bird dog
seventeen years
emily ran hard
barrel chested, ribs showing
ran with deer
step for step
leaped fences with them
at a dead run barking
nose always into the wind
casting a wide path
all business, relentless
quick pat on head
off like a shot
running days now over
found her in the road
coughing, short of breath
still wagging her tail
this wonderful dog is dying
place her under her tree
give her water
wait and watch
a last few ear rubs
buried her behind old white barn
rests with others there
all great and storied
hope is
we will meet again
troubadour
doesn’t own a smart phone or a laptop
gets his email in the library
in gallop new mexico
along with eleven navajos
searches antique stores in springfield
for old country seventy eights
looking for regional treasures
old front man for
a spoon river jug band
playing dixie truck stops,
chatauquas, and church carnivals
sometimes just to prairie dogs
and stars in colorado
sipping old taylor
from a paper cup
scribbling songs in between
life’s narrow lines
long ago ignored
apocalyptic predictions of failure
mining myths, lies and loves of
tobacco chewing tragic lives
shabby carnival barkers looked down on
for what they seem
hillbillies, ridge runners, preacher’s kids
america’s native sons and daughters
writing songs that sing
in long abandoned steel rails
playing banjo with wide eyed students
on southern college campus’s
harvesting cranberries in maine
running white lightning in tennessee
selling weed in twenty three dollar a night motels
drinking whiskey without eating
doesn’t equal out trying to be balanced
like a single drop of rain
trying to put a name on the influences
on the music he plays at life
Dan Jacoby was born in 1947 in Chicago. He is a graduate of St. Louis University. He has published poetry in Badlands Literary Journal Vol 2, Belle Rev Review, Black Heart Press, Bombay Gin, Canary, Chicago Literati, Clockwise Cat, Cowboy Poetry Press, Dead Flowers a Rag, Fishfood Literary and Arts Magazine, and many others. He is a member of the American Academy of Poets.