Canine king, find me, follow me
Whether dinnertime or downtime
Hot breath on my heels
Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf
Clickety-clacking claws, be unwilling to leave me be
Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs
Looking in wrong places for princes
No sixth-sense nonsense, your love
Those pale green-grey eyes
Were keeping me on the rails
Now I’ve fallen off
We, this imperfect photograph
Seemingly
In which nobody
Wants to be
Warped by wisdom
Invested in love
Honoring any of Earth
Touched at their edges by angels
Apologetic or ever redeemed
As evidenced by this Alone
My eyes stay on her
My third-eye coach at third base
My queen, my conscience
Coffee, simple coffee
I do not ask for more
Not a finer blend than my nemesis
Nor a larger cup than my neighbor
I can cultivate the fruit on my own
If the sun is not stolen away
I can create a rich roast to crush
If my body is not relegated
Conversations we could have
My brother
Would I pour for you
Would you pour for me
Would we meet for coffee each day
Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance
One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear
Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming
Let the sounds in — all of them!
Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated walls
See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs
Find which ones look like quiet conviction and calls to action
Then mull about together, dialogue, and make sense of this world with them
Create order from disorder and call it good again
At the end of the day, we must
We sit, as a cat
In this window, affected
Uncontrollably
For me
Whether it be storied and short
Or miles long
Sweet sweat
At twilight time
When the day’s taken all it can
Yet, I’ve much, much more to give
To me
LisaRosier.com 