Writing Retreat, Maria's Apartment, To the Tune of a Barking Dog by Karen D'Amato

Let me make a ritual
of opening the door
with a key
claimed in advance,
to the table
set with Mrs. Dash
and my spunky girlfriend's
sugar bowl, so tiger-striped
I almost bare my teeth
Add the white lamp
sprung from the livingroom,
a blue-lined
pad, the wind's
blank call,
a simple pen,
and Heaney's
light to dig with
as my ink scratches
the page-
and translates this dog's
persistence
through the blackened
third-floor panes:
You can do this
because you asked.
You are here because
you asked. Keep asking.