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With Dogs

If you lie down with dogs
you’ll get fleas

Granddaddy said
and the stink’ll stick to you

and people’ll know
and you sat

next to him
in the garden

on that old seat
he made

out of cast off wood
and he said

keep to your own kind son
don’t get out

of your depth
with that dross

and he stared up
at the sky

and you saw
his cool blue eyes

take in more
than you did

from the cloud shapes
to the passing

overhead birds
and you said

it’s easy to get involved
with that type

they haven’t got
the same degree

of choosiness
and he looked at you

and said
boy if they ain’t choosy

they ain’t bothered
and if they ain’t bothered

they ain’t worth
being with

and he pointed to flowers
growing near by

and said
I grew them from seeds

and cared for them
but those weeds

they don’t get cared for
or loved

but they still grow
because they ain’t bothered

and he looked up
at the sky again

and at the darkening clouds
carrying heavy rain.

poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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