let my people go

you part
the red sea
of your yard
with a broom.
it's the outdoors
broom, so
it's okay.
with sweeping
motions of your
arms you
roll back the great
puddles of water.
snow, and ice,
now rain,
all melting into
a still sea.
you open
the gate and push
the water
towards
the woods, down
the slope
to a waiting
full stream.
you are a beardless
moses in
your terry cloth
bathrobe and nike
sandals. you
are letting your
people go,
and by people you
mean your short
legged dog
moe.