I was bit by a dog named Duffy.
It was very upsetting;
there were tears
and Band-Aids
and Sue Anne's mother was very upset-
"Why would you try to climb on the back of the dog?!"
Duffy only had antipathy in his eyes for me.
We stood face to face;
he was woolly
and black
and smelled like wet dog.
The next day began normally:
Popeye cartoons on WBEN from Buffalo,
"Ring-a-Round the Rosy" with Sue Anne and her friends
...waiting for mother and father to come and reclaim me.
I has been delivered to Sue Anne's on what,
I suppose,
was my third birthday.
But there'd been no cake,
no fuss;
it would have only seemed anti-climactic, anyways:
Mother had gone to the hospital to have a baby.
And when the old Chevrolet pulled up
a swarm of children crowed around it to SEE!
to see the new baby!
They were greeted by the proud new father
who handed out a box full of blue Popsicles.
Blue Popsicles:
they had always been orange,
or chocolate,
or banana.
Blue Popsicles
...as if the universe could reinvent itself.
When the four of us drove away,
that April day in 1958 was as warm and comforting as any in June.
The sky, too, was blue.
The white clouds
seemed like soft, clean baby blankets
framing the face of a new-born sun.
I was bit by a dog named Duffy.
It was very upsetting;
but I smile when I think of it now.
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