On reading a poem by Billy Collins

It might be about the perambulations of his dog
Or of his thoughts (not the dog’s)
About a particular style of jazz

Perhaps it deals with the big questions:
Love, death or the way trees
Appear to be waving goodbye
Or even hello

In any case
His logic carries me along
Until he pulls the old switcheroo

And the dog wanders off
To play clarinet with Woody Herman
And the New Thundering Herd

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