Spinning the Dog
Like wool, softer than Alpaca,
they can not put their dog away.
They wear him as a sweater,
wrap themselves in their white Samoyed
like a down comforter.
Clean, pressed handkerchiefs
are held at the ready as they shear
their passed pet, pull tender tufts
as from a sheep, spooling great balls
of creamy hair. Tears must be wiped,
the salt will stiffen the fur.
If you knew how to cast on,
cast off, thread the tail
through a yarn needle,
pull tightly through all remaining stitches,
weave in all ends,
would you lay your dog to rest
or put him on your head,
an easy roll-brim hat?
I wrote this immediately after hearing a story on the radio about a couple who used the fur of their dead dog for sweaters. I was in the middle of writing the current free-for-all prompt for poem. Stop on by and read our prompt, join in if you like. I don't think this qualifies as a putting away poem, in that I did not put away my dog into a sweater, but still, I am pleased to have written a poem in the moment!
It feels a little rough. Please feel free to pass on comment & critique on how to tighten it up. Thanks!