3 Big Dogs in a
Convertible
by John Lehman
We’re driving
down the Interstate
at seventy miles an hour,
the air…crisp,
cloudless and clear
except for one
sinister tear
wiggling its way
up the windshield.
The dog in back
is moving to the front,
the one in front is
moving to the back,
and a third
who was in front
then moved to the back
is now
sitting in my lap.
We’re skiing
down the highway
through an ocean of rain
three heads of dogs
wedged
between windshield and dash.
There should be four dogs
in this car
and I, blinded and wet,
in bed
at home
with the cat.
But the wall of clouds
brightens from behind
and opens
like a movie theater curtain.
I honk the horn.
We howl in delight.
There’s more to life than
petty cares—
we’re four guys in a car
cruising for girls.
I feel so happy,
I climb in back
and let the Labrador drive.
~ previously published in Dogs Dream of Running (Salmon Run Press)
