Outside the band's practice space
Apollo, the rambunctious doberman,
paused overlong while
sniffing my pants
and then, suddenly still,
he stood with his head
sloped over my knee
for once not
galloping around and
tugging the war
his head silent and
laid next to the smell
stuck upon my jeans
and I wondered
as I stroked his back
if he knew
if he scented the death
that had come upon us
last Sunday
and was pausing his
usual play
to momentarily mourn with me
my own dog
who is no more
