sometimes when the TV is on
Oliver slips out to the backyard
settles into his favorite
security guard chair
pricks his ears
to tricks of the wind
the shuffles in leaf litter
tiny scratches and tinier twitches
looks for shadows
moving through shadow
the pencil lights
of a pair of eyes
wriggles his nose
for whiffs of rat or
possum or raccoon
any trespassers of the night
it’s when he holds a gaze
on the shimmering dots
in that black sea of sky
I start to wonder
if dogs live a deeper life
than the one that
plays for us