Pansy Maybe

Pansy Maybe

I’m all right.
Don’t worry about me.
I meant to do that thing,
banana split falling
into this snowdrift
blocks and blocks
from my destination.

It was planned, see?
I’m here for a reason.
Don’t you worry about me;
this is intentional.
I’m waiting here
for Bernard.

I don’t know if that’s his real name
but why else would you call
a wild St. Bernard
roaming your neighborhood
that digs up your garden
no matter the season?
Pansy, maybe?

He’ll come here eventually.
I’m wearing this floral pattern camouflage
after all
how could he resist?
He will come to me,
Bernard will,
and I’ll lay still
and then that macroscopic mutt will get his comeuppance
and I will be the biter of the snow dog.

It won’t bring back all my gardens of Christmas past
but at least it will protect the next –
The St. Bernard’s not wild?
She’s yours?
And her name IS Pansy?

Could you help me up?

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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