spun in mahogany,
she greets me,
in her friendly scents
and uncanny snouts
like a long-lost companion
-she, a maverick,an errand
whistles
and pooches
and coochie-coo's
her only language i know
fanning my sweat
with her own grime
and ants that
thrive on her tail
she jumps on to me
in her petite frail
i look at her
with an eye of sympathy
for she's often
dejected as stray
but to me she's beautiful
like a butterfly may
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Beautiful!! Your ode makes me think of a Wordsworth's poem after aggges. My fav stanza:
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen!
:)
Post a Comment