in my mind, my heart and my yard –
all bringing up bones of my past.
some more literal than others.
and one by one,
each dog taking a turn at the new found old treasure –
no growls or competition –
each trusting there turn will come
and at last it is brought to me!
i take it by hand, not mouth – with no intentions of having a chew.
i prefer to gnaw at metaphors
and search for meaning in my ancestral DNA.
They surround me, these dogs — curious at my myopia –
can i not see the treasure before me now?