Dear Ms. Ellen Bass,
My name is Sabrina, and I am currently an eighth grader in Long Island, New York. I am an aspiring poet and writer, and initially derived my love of poetry from writing song lyrics. I especially love beautiful imagery in writing, which is why your touching poem, “Lost Dog,” really struck a chord within me. The moving imagery and the idea of loss kept me engaged while reading your poem.
Is this poem based off of real life? If so, what breed is your dog and how old is he? I really admire how much the narrator loves her dog. I can relate because I have a two-year-old grey tabby cat, Daisy, who’s obsessed with spiders and hair ties. But, I still love her unconditionally! About two years ago, I even wrote two novels about her adventures in a fantasy island in the sky. She is truly precious to me! Each time my violin teacher exits the front door, Daisy runs outside, but she always comes back within five minutes. Although it’s such a short time, my heart always leaps in fear, then calms down each time she comes back in, pawing and meowing at my leg, demanding pets and kisses. Because she squints her eyes each time she returns home and plops down in her bed, purring, I can tell she enjoys the warmth of her home as much as I do. This always makes me happy, no matter what kind of day I’m having.
After watching you read your poem in a video on the Dear Poet Project 2019 website, some questions came into my mind: When you read your poem to an audience, does it help you interpret your own work differently than when you were writing it? I’ve noticed that reading a story, poem, or any piece of writing out loud is truly different from reading it silently, even if it is your own work. I heard the passion in your voice as well as the small smile at the end, when you said, “If I could lose him like this every day/ I’d be the happiest woman alive.” I also wonder, in general, when you read your poetry out loud, do you experience any new or different emotions than when you wrote it?
What first caught my eye in your poem was the second line, “damp grasses fragrant with anise and mint,” which is a gorgeous piece of imagery. I could feel the grass tickling my ankles and smell the strong spices and herbs. Fun fact: my mother uses anise daily especially when she cooks oyster mushrooms and bitter melon together with BBQ sauce! This line really awakened my sense of smell, which made me feel as if I was the one standing in the moist grass. I enjoyed another piece of imagery, “no sleek/ black silhouette with tall ears rushing/ toward me through the wild radish.” This allowed me to feel the tense silence in the air that followed the absence of the dog and the growing black hole in the narrator’s heart. The radish was another detail that struck out to me. Although it is only one word, the distinguishable, bright pink vegetable helped me picture the surroundings in my head. It really is cool how one word in poetry could stand out so much, and depending on the context, can make a huge difference in the interpretation of the poem!
The repeated “no’s” and “not’s” also contributed to the panic I felt when I read the poem. If the woman in the poem is you, was there a heavy uneasiness on your heart when the dog ran away? The poem really captures that building sense of dread you feel when you fear you’ve lost something. I felt my heart tightening with every image until, thankfully, he returned to his cozy home. This leads me to my next question: if you've ever lost a pet, did you feel the same way?
Another detail I loved was, “Now he sprawls on the deep red rug, not dead” because of how the red-colored rug and the word “dead” are connected. The red could be a symbol of blood, which then brings me to sigh in relief since the dog is on a rug, not in a pool of blood. Thank goodness!
In addition, the lines, “joy does another lap around the racetrack/ of my heart” allowed me to feel the excitement, relief, and euphoria the narrator experienced. This reminded me of a dog or any elated animal chasing their tails and running around in circles, which is an adorable image that made me want to just jump up, squeal, and hug the dog!
The entire time I was reading the poem, it was as if I was in a roller coaster and slowly creeping up the steep slope, chunka-chunka, until the ending. Normally, when anyone thinks of loss, they would only connect it to being distraught and grieving. But instead, the narrator brought out the happiness from the loss and stated, “If I could lose him like this every day/ I’d be the happiest woman alive.” To me, these last two lines were the climax of your poem. They showed me that the woman recognized the relief of her dog coming back home more than the pain and fear from his absence.
Was it challenging to write about a poem where happiness was being brought out from loss? Again, if this dog is your pet, how long did it take you to realize that the relief and contentment you felt was actually ultimately derived from the anxiety and fear of losing your dog? Did this irony recurrently cross your mind throughout your process of writing this moving poem?
“Lost Dog,” has truly opened up my mind to new ways of interpreting loss. The ending left me in a state of wonder because of how happiness and loss are two very opposite words. Yet, the way you used them made them seem very connected, like two different colored threads tightly interwoven to create an alluring pattern in a rug.
Thank you for writing such a delightful and mesmerizing poem. You have truly taught me to view loss and happiness with a different eye, and I am forever grateful for that!
Sending warm wishes and hugs,
Sabrina
Grade 8
Long Island, NY
