PAD Day 25: An Honor, and a Dog's-eye View

First things first: Thanks to Maureen Thorson of the NaPoWriMo blog for featuring my blog post from yesterday (with my poem "Complete Guide to Page 427 of the Dictionary") on her site. It's an honor to be singled out - I guess my poem really amused her. 

Today's dual prompts from Poetic Asides and NaPoWriMo: (1) Write an "exile" poem, and (2) write a poem about a season or seasons, using all five senses and a rhetorical question. Here's one from a dog's point of view.

Exile

Banished to the back yard

for the crime of taking a steak

from the kitchen counter,

I'm literally in the doghouse,

limited by a leash. It's spring, though,

so I don't mind so much,

though the smells drive me crazy -

squirrel and rabbit mixed with bird.

I want to find them all, but in restraints,

I have a limited radius. Why can't they

just trust me to stay in the yard?

I hear the neighbor's dog whine plaintively -

I wonder what he did -

and I see that roaming tabby cat

trotting through the garden.

I bark and strain at the end of the leash

but she ignores me, as usual.

There are some flowers in the grass here,

the kind my master always kills.

I nibble at them - yuck, bitter.

No wonder he doesn't want them.

I slurp some water from the bowl

to get the taste out of my mouth.

It's not so bad out here, really.

A warm breeze tousles my fur,

and I lie down to doze in the cool shade

until they let me in for dinner.