Retrieval

Buddy
is the Golden Retriever that lives next door.
I can't be sure
of the length of his life;
only that it has been scarcely walked outside the fence
                        that cages him --
                        --not a white-picket, but rather
a chain-link
in the square of the back yard.

As he passes
just behind metal diamonds
and noses the grass at the base,
as if looking
for a way out --

his thick caramel-and-white seems
    such a waste
         in that thankless space
and the longing on his face --
         familiar.

Like the need to stretch,
or to breathe;
to walk in the open,

unconfined by the constricts of all one has known.