Poor Max, he’s afraid of unexpected noise
He runs for cover when thunder cracks and rumbles
Or when neighbor children play with firecrackers.
Poor dog, he finds safety underneath the porch swing
Where his human sits serene in spite of storm
Gently rocking while he cowers fearfully below.
I’m not unlike you, Max, I must admit
I’m also scared of loud and sudden sounds
I’ve been known to run for cover myself—
Even if it’s only hands over ears.
I too find safety under things—if not porch swings
Then ‘neath the fellowship of others’ conversations
Or perhaps protection offered by a prayer at close of day
Max, you give me comfort
Knowing that all creatures—man or beast
Need shelter from the storms that rage around us
Maybe cowardice is wisdom underneath
are Max’s humans.
Sometimes he shares their room
on stormy nights.
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