Friday Setting Out

Again we head
for Friday dinner–out
to restaurants–join
traffic to wherever

flow and practice
pretend normalcy
turn home. On entry
neither dog will bark

but watch their eyes
betray concern–
counting members
of the pack–who’s

gone missing–what
is more this urgent?
Sideboard in the foyer
where his photos stand

a shrine his cousins made. I say
good night and mornings both
to him and sleeping dogs
and in the darkest hours

nescient, sometimes
sober when I rise
dawn’s stillness
cries for him.