It’s been awhile. First I was busy and then I was lazy and then I was too scared to write. I hate when that happens. Luckily, I have some pretty talented and inspiring people in my life, so the dry spells don’t last too long. I wrote this first little guy after clearing my head on a particularly grumpy walk.
South on Kinnickinnic
A humble, mahogany dachshund
rounds the corner of Linebarger,
an Olympic sprinter. I was still
so grumpy with you that I almost
let that be the end of it. But he
was so compact and stout at
the same time, and so I followed
him. I followed him for fifteen
blocks, and after every couple of
them, he would look back to see
if I was still there, and then
wondering why. I followed the thick
little dachshund to a house with
a man outside, painting a white
picket fence. He was as burly as
his dog, and looked just as glum.
After getting home from my grumpy walk, I wasn’t quite ready to head back inside, plus it was gorgeous outside. So sitting outside and continuing to write made the most sense.
Again, I love my people. I’ve been really missing some of them lately.
Ever Since You Headed West
I mix in a dab of your daily eye
cream with my nightly Hendricks
on the rocks. It adds just enough
orange that I’m reminded of your
smile and how it smells. And then
I blink away the truth of it all
and you’re here, and our laughs
match again and we do everything
while we still have the time. We
fix it all before it has a chance to
break. The birds are grateful. Their
wings get tired, but when our
laughs sing at the same pitch,
it makes the flight a little easier.