dog bark at 3:00 a.m.
summer’s night chill in thick darkness,
I awake and get up.
65 degrees, mostly cloudy, I say to him,
opening his kennel door, He runs out,
desperately relieving himself.
I return, feet padding across cold floor.
I’m getting old, I tell myself.
I lay, listen, think
of the old photo Joy Harjo posted,
infamous ‘Napalm Girl’ 50 years ago,
imagery still grips me, her naked vulnerability,
shudders of war, her fear and pain
caught in my throat,
caught in thick darkness,
first memories of my world view
scattered on the news, black and white,
guns and soldiers, remain, embedded,
I’m awake now
in memory of her.