TETHERS

Six o’clock this morning when
Death caught up with us and decided
the whole world would go untouched
but for you my tawny friend

I think Death was a little spiteful
since we’d snatched seven hours from yesterday
when he arrived where you should have been
to find I’d stolen you away

Unbound you lay by my side at home
my belly against your back
breathing soft, purring low
my fingers across your pain

Six o’clock this morning when
I heard a small chime ring – I woke
in time to watch you steal away again.

Rome

I thought you needed my help
waiting for my shining moment
to don armor, to mount steed,
to heroically jump in…

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

I waited a long time to hear you ask
your eyes raised to mine
a brow in curled question
an honest second
of bit of hope
a word:
Help.

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

I’ve worried myself into bitterness:
I wouldn’t spit on you now
if flame burst from your
head and hair.
I might even applaud
and yes, I would stare –
and if ever I could play fiddle,
I would, then and there.

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

It's Not the Wind

New year comes on eight legs
and lifts them to test the air and taste the wintermoth -
but the moth is a sweet moon dancer...
and spider a starving lurker, or worse, a hungry walker.

With dusty fluttering wings in my ears –
no, its not the wind
it’s the foolery of the short-lived
as they make their mark early and quick
flying fiercely at the moon or sun
at dizzy heights to be crisped and ruined –
to land – they come – to ends again –
landing softly in outstretched webs.

I wait safe & sound:
a personal guarantee to live long.
Cocooned in a stringy nest,
ravenous.