Black dog this morning,
growling, hackles erect.
I whispered to it as it
pounded its fence, “Hassan!
Hassan!” which means
“Handsome” or “Beautiful.”
I held my black umbrella
like the vulture it was. The dog
wanted to attack despite
my compliments, despite
the silver rain, and the
flying gray clouds which
looked like horses emerging
from mountains. “Hassan.”
Benefactor, provider of roasted lamb
and ripe figs and flat mitts
of bread and yogurt and leaves
of mint and tents bright in the desert
and my vulture wanting to fly
away from me, as I hold on
because it is beautiful
as the struggle.