Lazily soaking up the day
at hand. Nothing for me
to accomplish. It certainly is
a dog’s life. I clamber up
on my doghouse, up on the
world.
Life.
Life.
Life.
The spring breeze ruffles
my fur, as in to notify me
I mean something.
It knows I’m here, I
exist.
Life.
Life.
Life.
We’re all here, we all
exist.
Maybe that is what we’re
doing right.
Some places where you could use more precise images:
ReplyDeletethe day the speaker is soaking up -- what's it like? What does the world look like from the top of the dog house?
You get across a lazy day and spring breezes . . . but these are a bit overused so keep pushing for both precision and images that surprise us. The poem is very clear and easy-to-understand so far, and shows clear movement and a realization, so all of that is working for you.