Poem: Maybe Got it Wrong

My dog's got a great chance to get into Heaven (whatever Heaven might be), but as for myself, I'm not so sure.

Maybe Got it Wrong We maybe got it wrong,     putting ourselves up here on top,     to claim everlasting souls,     denying our dogs the same They’ve got our number,     philosophically unencumbered,     self-assured, happy to be dog-like     and knowing life, or so it seems We question our immortality     and they’re  so confident of theirs We need the comfort of an afterlife     and they’re far too cool for that Our metaphysical self tells us     we’ll elbow in somehow Our complete dogs don’t even ask     don’t need a rung to call their own If the meek and charitable are winners     over greed and avarice, the men we measure against our dogs     mostly come up short, including me Cats don’t count, they know they are God

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.