I lie beneath your window
Eyes closed,
Heart uneasy
resting in the slight morning sun
The dog who waits at the graveside
Of a master never returning
Unwilling to leave his side
Stoic in the force of unrelenting rain
For who will protect him if not me?
Who will know his secret
And care enough to bury it for him
The artist within
His fear and complexity unsung
Who will forgive his thoughts
And ready to pull him to the surface
Guard him
Who will love him with no hesitation
With no judgement, pleased by simple things
The familiarity of his truck pulling in,
Who will stay beside him
Eat from his hand,
And appeal to him, with lifted head and soft sunlit eyes
Who will insist he is adored
If not me?
About the Creator
Elsa Michaela | @surfthought
When you hear a song
One that stops you in your tracks
That seems spoken from your own mind
Do you listen and listen again?
Follow its streams until a tide,
Inside you
Rushes to fill in the small hollow parts
…Yeah, me too
INSTA - @surfthought
Keep reading
More stories from Elsa Michaela | @surfthought and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶a day ago in Petlife
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.