Parade
“Parade,” written May 26, a moment on magic in a manufactured citylet, poem 146 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo, "Dogs on Parade," a photo taken by Liz Ducey and re-envisioned by Diana Ludwick (c) 2026.
Sometimes if you let it,
then the parade will come to you.
If you loosen your gaze,
drop your shoulders,
unclench your jaw,
then the magic of the world will appear.
One brisk morning,
in a manufactured citylet,
a strange sight:
three dogs joyriding in a convertible
a husky at the wheel,
another's elbow out the passenger side,
a blonde in the back, along for the escapades.
Are there humans in the midst?
No, yes, maybe.
A straw hat, a flash of shades.
Perhaps a person, perhaps not.
In any case, it's Dogs on Parade.
Let the revelry continue;
stop questioning the details.
