We walked into Lowe’s not expecting dogs
One tiny old and disabled Pekinese on a blanket in a buggy
One terrier carried by a young man
With an old man’s long scraggly beard
He shows the on-off light on the dog’s collar
This is for when he goes out at night
It’s for in case a hawk or some other creature
Of the night tries to get him.
Course we might just see the light lifting
And what will we do then?
They let people bring dogs to Lowes now?
Yes, Walmart too especially service dogs
This one keeps me calm
I wonder if the young man
Has PTSD…an acronym for shell shock or
Battle fatigue. Or is he kidding?
Next, he says: they threw us out of a
dollar-type store.
I told ‘em they didn’t have to yell,
Just tell me quietly.
But back to Walmart.
They won’t allow dogs in the buggies
They say they ain’t sanitary
But what about babies in dirty diapers
Are they sanitary?
I bathe my dog once a week
Whether she needs it or not
I never take her into restaurants.
But his wife was already moving on
And I had lost my Will of the Wisp husband,
Somewhere in another part of the store.
Afternoon dogs:
Walking the trail I hear deep, heartfelt baying
I figured hounds on the trail had a squirrel or
A raccoon run up a tree.
Small animals for such big dogs to chase
I rounded the corner and saw
A standoff. A man and a woman each
With a very large hound on a leash
And a mother far over on the trail
Hurrying past holding a terrier in one arm
And guiding her tiny daughter on her tiny
Tricycle with the other hand
I said to the mother as she passed
The woman was out for a pleasant walk with her dog and daughter
The hound couple were out for a pleasant walk with their hounds
When the woman and her charges were gone,
I asked what kind of dogs these were.
The man said, “Hounds” and pointed
That little dog barked first
The woman said this here one’s a lab/boxer mix
And that black one is a Blue Tick.
I waved and went on.
They came behind me but they had
To get off the trail for everyone who passed
When I came back up.
They were still coming down.
The Blue-Tick bayed at me in a different tone.
“Tell me all about it,” I said.
The man laughed, and then I hurried by.
It was a beautiful Saturday as I
Danced home to the sound of jazz.
Review for Faces in the Crowd, by Mary Harwell Sayler
By DiVoran Lites
I met Mary Harwell Sayler at a Christian Writer’s Conference in Titusville, Florida. She was speaking about writing novels and poetry and I was fascinated. She had so much experience and, as I discovered, so much expertize as a writer that I wanted to know more of what she knew
A kind of funny thing happened that in a small way started an ongoing student/teacher relationship as well as a personal friendship. Mary mentioned from the speaker’s podium that she had left her watch at home, so I stopped by our big store and got one that cost very little. Mary was gracious, as she always is, and made me feel as if I had given her something wonderful.
From there I discovered that she would take me as a private student and so many years I drove to DeLand once a month, where she lived. We talked and talked and got to know and care for each other. She quickly became my favorite teacher as well as my favorite poet. I haven’t missed one of her publications, and I appreciate them all.
I particularly enjoy Mary’s newest book of poetry, Faces in the Crowd,I identify with every line. The poems are full of humor, understanding, and pathos. They let me feel and apprehend what she is talking about. I identify with each one as if Mary had been looking into my life, and yet I believe every poem comes from a place of empathy and experience in Mary’s life, too. Her poems showed me how connected we humans are and how much we have in common with each other.
One thing I love about poetry is the insight, or epiphany that should come with every poem. Mary excels at making words pictures as well as at drawing deep meaning from every one. I’m so happy to be able to read her work and I’ll be reading Faces in the Crowd over and over again for a long time to come.
Mary is one of the featured authors on Rebekah Lyn Books.
