Boulder
The thing is, he doesn’t complain—
‘Why are we following the same trail we took yesterday?’
(And, I might add, the day before that, too.)
Perhaps he doesn’t notice, but of course he does.
He just doesn’t care! Part pit bull, part sweetheart,
he plods along as if there is no déjà vu.
He still wants to smell the plants and pee
in the right places. It’s all as interesting
as it ever was. The path deserves its due.
I have to admire his performance:
a smell, a poke, a glance. Progress is slow.
The leash often limits what he wants to pursue.
But when we get back, I’ve been converted
by his shrugged-approach to life’s repetitions: make them new.
…..
This poem first appeared in Calliope, and can be found in the book Filing Order by John Delaney (Finishing Line Press) at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/filing-order-by-john-delaney/
After retiring as curator of historic maps at Princeton University Library, John Delaney moved out to Port Townsend, WA, and has traveled widely, preferring remote, natural settings. Since that transition, he’s published Waypoints (2017), a collection of place poems, Twenty Questions (2019), a chapbook, Delicate Arch (2022), poems and photographs of national parks and monuments, and Galápagos (2023), a collaborative chapbook of his son Andrew’s photographs and his poems. Nile, a chapbook of poems and photographs about Egypt, appeared in 2024.
The Paddock Review 