“Molly Dog Face” © Bonnie Matthews Brock


Social Distancing with My Daughter’s Dog

Someone’s been licking
my foot brace, again.
it’s dampish, warm to touch in the morning.

I appreciate my daughter’s dog’s
—my grand-dog’s—concern for my broken ankle.
Sniff away, Canela.

Yesterday we celebrated
a victory of our co-sequestration
with ankle injuries.

Your cone was removed,
duct tape added
around the ankle bandage.

At noon, the tape was breached;
the cone went back on,
we commiserated.

Admit it,
you social distance
better with the cone on.

Is it a metaphor
when I see you and me
limping through a backyard garden that needs weeding?

Is it The Road?
Me playing Viggo Mortensen,
you as my son.

No, in fact
your Dad, my future son-in-law
is watering the zinnias.

And you and I walk in circles,
admiring the flights of moths
and hummingbirds.

The watering reminds me that
my people and their rescue dog
moved in when I broke my ankle, needed help.

Out came home-made pad thai,
breakfast on the sofa,
help watering.

Not isolation,
not social distancing.
Instead, extra sniffs and body slams.


Megan Baldrige is from New Mexico. She recently retired and began to write poetry. She likes to write about the President, her dog, insects and knitting.

Bonnie Matthews Brock is a Florida-based photographer, as well as a school psychologist. Her images have been published in Ibbetson Street Press, The Somerville Times, and Oddball Magazine.