The Tennis Ball Not Chased

My sincerest apologies to Robert Frost.

Two tennis balls diverged in a living room,
And sorry I could not chase both
And be one chaser, long I stood
And stared down one as far as I could
To where it laid in the hallway.

Then took the other, as just as yellow,
And having perhaps the better squeaker,
Because it was much newer and wanted wear;
Though as for that the Corgi there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
With outsides no dog had yet slobbered on.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I decided to bring both of them back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two tennis balls diverged in a living room, and I--
I took one in my mouth and one with my paw,
And that has made all the difference.


Yes, my dog has figured out how to bring two tennis balls back at once. I'm so proud! Of my dog, not this poem.