Corona Dogs
Now everybody’s got a dog
so they can have an excuse
to get some air.
You can tell which ones were adopted
after Corona appeared
because they really don’t know
the neighborhood
and they sniff around the street
like startled strangers.
They don’t even know
where other dogs live.
They start at the sound
of a local hound
barking, poking its nose
through the gate
of some guarded villa.
We came to the rescue center
too late. All the cages
were empty, and we left
knowing that when this passes
there will be more choices
than ever before.
For now, an alley cat has adopted us,
walks our 30 yard limit
whatever path we follow
knowing there will be lunch
when we get home.
And when it is over, and the old ladies come out
to feed them again she’ll leave us. And then we’ll get a dog.
How Much More Noble
How much more human
We have become
Now that we can no longer touch
How much more clear
The air we breathe
Now that we can no longer tour
How dear are those we love
When they are far away
And how much more sad to be alone
How much more
We have to learn
How much more we have to live
©2020 Karen Alkalay-Gut
All rights reserved
Karen Alkalay-Gut’s latest books are the dual language Surviving Her Story: Poems of the Holocaust (Courevour Press), translated to French by Sabine Huynh, and A Word in Edgewise (Simple Conundrums Press). She lives in Tel Aviv with her husband and an outdoor alley cat.