Little Morning Poem
Mary C. Cost

says not everything is a poem
to be highly regarded.

But what
in the world could not, if properly
attended, be? Our stubborn

in even the most improbable
awakenings — the dog, forced

to walk
at minus four, her ears, twin banners
streaming, the way she high-steps

shock of
ice on naked paw — if this is not
to be highly regarded,

then what!

dog in snow