By |

For years, I’ve wanted to own a dog – as an adult – in order to experience for myself the joys and rewards of canine companionship known to so many others. Bringing this little guy, our sweet, sweet Coco, into our lives has been a revelation. A challenge, yes. Great frustration at times? Most certainly. Regret? If I’m honest, yeah, once in awhile.

He, however, gives us so much in return for our trouble. Like a bucking bronco, he tears up the living room, his exhilaration palpable as, one by one, he trots out each of his growing collection of toys as Bill and I go about our morning preparations. We delight at his antics, his simple puppy gestures, his whimpers and growls, his wagging tail, his dark eyes and black button nose, his soft wavy coat, his cherubic countenance as he (at last!) curls up for a mid-morning nap and most of all, his love and devotion to us – his supremely lucky humans.

Puppyhood is likely not for everyone and I’ll be both grateful and sad when he sheds his youthful exuberance for a more stately and dignified – restful – manner. Every day brings new smiles and laughter and a deepening appreciation for the happiness and glee he provides. I can only hope he is as pleased to have us in his life as we are that he is a part of ours.

By |

the heart is a sovereign nation
its emissaries en route to distant lands
by way of narrow channels
congested highways
speedboats on a mission
racing through bloody waters
dispensing life-quenching nutrients
to a parched, needy and often ungrateful host…

By |

Traversing the vast Kalahari,
a threadbare bandana kept the grit
at bay, sheltering teeth and nostrils.
Damp from the condensation

of my labored breathing, the fabric chafed.
I faltered briefly at the ancient portal, its
rocky underpinnings a deterrent,
the arid plains before me a windswept desolation

of crumbling decay. I surveyed the old kingdom
and pressed on. Soon, silence on all sides.
I lowered my kerchief, keen with relief
knowing I was safe from my pursuers
as sizzling skies gave way to subtle blues and pinks.

Then black.

The wind ceased in its fury, no longer perpendicular
to my forward momentum. Uncoupled from
my bulging rucksack, I bedded down for the night
sheltered by the cool darkness.

Come dawn, I would resume, fearful once more.
Rest, now, for this body and a rekindling of the spirit.

Fiercely awakened
after years of emptiness,
there is nothing to hold me back
despite my fears,
despite the longing,
despite the doubt.

By |

Thunder rumbles in the distance
from the western horizon:
the promise of rain.

Good.

Body caked in sweat
baseball cap corralling
a Monday case of unruly hair.
Yet I resist a shower,
the groove of my day
doesn’t yet include
body wash and shampoo.

Not just yet anyway.

I’m enjoying this time alone
pretty much like every 24/7.
Why is that, I wonder?

Little plinks of rain,
staccato formation.
I sit under a shallow eave:
I’m protected enough.
Northwest sky is hazy,
the clouds heavy and full.

Bird feeders are still
just like the air.

Quiet envelops me
as it always does.
I don’t fear it.
I welcome the silence
and embrace it.
It fills me, somehow.

Butterfly high in the sky
against a backdrop
of encroaching cloud cover.
When the storm arrives
where will it fly?
Will it go wherever the elements take it?

Questions I’d not yet ever pondered.

I like it out here
surveying my world
my special place of retreat:
my sanctuary.

Clouds are moving northward
warm air from the south, then.
Atmospheric forces at play
for something spectacular, perhaps.
As with the silence,
I welcome this too.

There’s a throaty growl.
The storm is moving closer.

Mr. Monarch is flying lower now;
it glides and dips above the grass
unconcerned with wind speed,
precipitation,
temperature fluctuations.
I should be so nonchalant,
focusing solely on charting
my own travels and adventures.

My new winged friend
flits in and out of my line of sight
unwittingly imparting
new perspectives on how to live one’s life.

I shall remember this moment.