JIMMY, THE DOG

I want to write a poem about a dog
though I've already written some poems
that feature dogs. Sometimes I want

to write a poem without rhyme,
about a dog, so I'm writing a poem
that doesn't have any rhyming

lines. I know how cautious I need
to be about grammar while writing
a poem, especially a poem about

a dog, as the dog I'm writing about
doesn't break rules; neither does he
disregard his master. Following rules 

is what grammar demands – verbs
follow nouns. In a beautiful morning,
last March, when it was raining,

I went to Jimmy, the dog. A sudden
visit. Jimmy sneaked out, stood still by
me for ninety seconds, as if awestruck

by my presence. I felt Jimmy was happy
and had greeted me warmly. I instantly
thought of the dogs I had written about

in the past, the dogs who yelp and make
noises, but Jimmy emerged as an essential
lyric, rhythmical and resonant. My poems

about dogs had been a failure, and I was
waiting for the poem about Jimmy. Dogs
gaze at preys, appease hunger, slurping 

down stale leftovers, bark pointlessly, 
kill birds flying to their starving nestlings
with food hard-earned from a distant

shore, fear clouds if it rains, embrace 
winter and like to live on trash. I was
travelling by the road bordered by

acacias teeming with tiny flowers,
tea gardens with lush greenery and
tea-leaves. Jimmy bent over, quietly

snuffled, looked up to make eye contact,
made small sounds, said possibly thank you
for coming. A photograph with Jimmy

reminds me of an empyrean time – I
truly tasted the bliss of solitude and rain
and the company of Jimmy, the dog.

Mohammad Shafiqul Islam teaches English at Shahjalal University of Science & Technology and is a poet and translator.