by Chris Buchanan
Poetry, 2016
Where’s Big Dog gone?
Up? He was always tall,
Must be up
in the clouds
on the roof
somewhere?
Now there’s no-one left
bigger than me.
So long old feller.
Maybe he can hear me-
can you hear me
old yeller?
Alpha, papa, omega, dada,
Our Father,
man in the moon yeah,
what do we do now Pops?
Pop pop
pop.
Chris Buchanan writes 