Snow Prince

By Cleveland Wall

First snow, no dog.
First dog I ever loved
died Tuesday morning.
I had to go to work anyhow,
stuff the hard lump of sad
into a tight compartment
behind the file vaults.
No dogs allowed. My dog
was a past master at all
the doggy pursuits—the bunny chase,
the bacon snarfle, the nuzzling into
the exact center of the tent.
And first snow
was never old hat; no,
it was miraculous every single time.
Late morning
someone sneezed and it sounded
like a dog barking.
And again. It couldn’t be,
but I had to ask:
Is there a dog here?
No. There is no dog.
Only snow.

Cleveland Wall is a poet, editor, and teaching artist in Bethlehem, PA. She is one half of the poetry/guitar duo The Starry Eyes, a founding member of the poetry improv group No River Twice, and cohost of Tuesday Muse, a monthly performance series. Her first book, Let X=X, is available from Kelsay Books.

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