Richard Dinges

Early Sunset

Another cold blast
dooms prolonged
fall hopes, chases me
indoors to toast
toes by wood stove’s
glow. My big dopey
dog remains outside,
sits and stares
across our open
fields. He waits
for summer sun,
long romps through
fields of hay. His
skin quivers
in expectation.
He knows nothing
of winter to come,
my hold on summer
a stick still grasped
in his slackening jaws.

Richard Dinges, Jr. lives and works by a pond among trees and grassland, along with his wife, one dog, three cats, and five chickens. SBLAAM, Green Hills Literary Lantern, The Journal, millers pond, and Pulsar most recently accepted his poems for their publications.