Last Night's

Last night's was about writing a poem at last.
It was so familiar:
repeating the lines to myself till I could find
a pen and a piece of paper. 
But along with it was knowing I had left 
my dog loose on the street 
at the foot of the sloping yard, 
beyond which stood the trees;
and I am sorry to say that I let him wait
till I had finished writing. Then,
containing panic, I called for him,
louder than I can really shout
until finally I found him in the house
sleeping under the laundry.
I was so relieved to have him back;
but this morning, of course,
I can no longer remember the poem.

July 13 2014