To My Dog, Barking At The Ocean

Shoulder to shoulder
With the surge of bestial
Power and yell at it
With all your tiny might
And flaunting seagulls,
Stand squarely and
Shoulder the knowledge
Of comparative size
Knowing to fight with
Your reticent back-stepping
But yell and know
I am here to kick away
That flock of deriding
Gulls and stand at the
Hazing of sky and surf
And stand at
Stand, and so shall
I, yell and I shall
Yell, stand of
Importance, and the
Driftwood piles in
Drying clods of sand.
The gulls fly from you.