I’ve given up on human friends.
I’m too sensitive, and would do better as a tree.
People rarely ask me questions, and if they do,
they meet my answers without interest.
Sometimes I think my best friend is
our neighbor’s golden retriever.
She follows me half a mile to the mailbox
and carries our letters home in her mouth.
She trots along the lakeshore while I swim,
licks my sore heel after a walk,
and snores her way into my heart
during an afternoon doze in the sun.
And sometimes I don’t even move one finger
to give her a biscuit.