POEM - Bark Worse Than Bite

 It wasn't our dogs
That kept me stirring
But the neighbors had been so nice
Never complained when it was
That terrible yip
In rapid succession
Far worse than the bass drum
Of the hound over the fence

But today is a holiday
With too much food
And just enough family
That being nice has expired
And grumpy
Is my bedfellow

And my prayers are not for my fellow man
But to the gods of silence
Wasted proffering
Selfish and un-thankful
And in this moment
I have not learned my lesson
My digits clenched into fists
Refuse to rise
To let blessings be counted

Except one
That it is not that spearheaded yip
And another
That I commiserated long enough
Through feeble written verse
That even the barker lost his bark

Maybe someone told him
There is a poet next door
Who
Regardless of rage
Will never yell back
In ways known to canines
But in verse only
That neither man nor beast
Has patience
To contemplate nor endure