Benjamin, Who Came from Who Knows Where

What shall I do?
When I pick up the broom
    he leaves the room.
When I fuss with kindling he
    runs for the yard.
Then he’s back, and we
    hug for a long time.
In his low-to-the-ground chest
    I can hear his heart slowing down.
Then I rub his shoulders and
    kiss his feet
and fondle his long hound ears.
    Benny, I say,
don’t worry. I also know the way
    the old life haunts the new.