The Good Guys
by
Carol V. Michael

At night, soft carpet,
sleeping 'round my bed,
and snoring pillows, near my head. 

Mornings are not soft at all,
loud barking, jumping fools!

Clinking tags in dishes
full of doggy’s fuel.

Play and posturing, tease and run;
then drift to sleep, every one. 

Some directly
in the sun.

Stretching long, with legs full out,
they wake to reassemble.

The dogs on deck reshuffle.

A bark, a growl, show of tooth,
but not too many ruffles
 
Night again, they are again
just as they were before.
 
Warmth and comfort,
shielding cold,
and bad guys from the door.

---