The Robe
Thunder threatens.
Even though I close the curtains,
little white dog trembles underneath my desk.
She makes a nest in my winter robe.
Perhaps Land’s End would like to know.
***
I’m Not Crazy
I don’t care
if the car behind me
runs up my back fender.
If a cat is in the street
I stop.
***
Shelter
A robin shelters in our sunroom
from the storm of windblown leaves.
Uncertain how to get back outside,
the robin eyes me, wondering
if I’ll help or bring more misery.
***
Chasing Sleep
The dog chases
the shadow of my insomnia,
a squeaky toy she grabs
and shakes between her teeth
until morning.
published in Medusa's Kitchen:
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