Experiencing the Outdoors With Jack Without Going Anywhere

Jack, our golden boy, sits regally in the outdoors
listening to a snowstorm brew;
we reflect the silence.
He looks like a senator,
maybe pigeon-toed,
paying me no attention
because I will not throw the ball.
His molasses eyes shift
from the wind on the fence
to the salt shaker sound
of premature snowflakes dusting themselves
over the dead, hollow leaves.
His snout drags staccato puffs of air,
his mouth intermittently,
like tasting the flavor
of a fine tobacco pipe.