Poem for the New Year

Copyright Barry Troutman

Copyright Barry Troutman

Copyright Barry Troutman

How to Become a Love Dog

There are love dogs/no one knows the names of.
Give your life/to be one of them.                        Rumi

When the sliver of new moon longs to be
full, Moon Dog sheds her winter coat. She
sniffs, licks the moon's pocked skin, wraps

its face in her great paws, holds it in her eyes.
Moon Dog follows the moon wherever it 
wants to go: across the heavens, over meadow

and forest, under the sea. She rises and sets 
with the moon, pillows her snout on its curve.
There is nothing the moon does that Moon Dog

doesn't love, a love that pulls tides, pours over
the sky, through windows, lights the night's
way. Moon Dog studies shadows the moon

makes, bares her own shadow's teeth. Whisper 
in Moon Dog's ear. Follow her. Clothe yourself
in her fur. See what she sees. Let her breath

be yours, her heart your heart. Let your hands
and feet be her paws. Chase the horizon. Catch
stars and planets in your mouth. Howl love.

Photos by Barry Troutman
Moon dogs (paraselenae) are rare luminous spots on a lunar halo that appear 22 degrees to the right and left of the moon. They are caused by ice crystals in cirrus clouds that refract the light of the full or nearly full moon.