Poem: The Simple Pleasures of Howling

Supposedly the quiet one around here, I still occasionally feel compelled to join in when the village sirens suddenly begin their terrible moaning and screaming. I’ll willingly take my place then alongside the many other neighborhood dogs, throwing back my head to howl away for the simple relieving pleasures of pure unrestrained grief, and to enjoy the sight of the poor dogs around me as they gradually grow silent, cocking their massive heads in wonder, watching and softly whimpering as they realize that even I have no suitable answers.