Friends
I built one once,
out of meals and pints,
new recipes and boardgames.
Late nights and weekends,
I tinkered and worked,
crafting a memory.
Tracing a smile to greet me,
sanding a shoulder to cry on,
discovering a barking cackle.
I built a friend,
even as he built me.
Dogs In A Sunlit Park
Flying fur and joyous paws,
bringing fun to those outdoors.
Big and small and thin and fat,
who could help but smile at that.
Chasing, darting, bouncing balls,
echoing barks off low park walls,
why take your lunch indoors?
When joy roams free on just four paws.
Going Back
I returned to old houses,
stiff, formal, uninvited.
The scent of memory perfumed by another,
the seats rearranged,
the paintings all wrong.
I chatted, reminisced,
lied like I knew this place,
this doll house where I played at old happiness.
I dutifully commented on rooms,
I cooed over forgotten junk,
I cried through a smile at this well-intentioned desecration.
Previously
My back hurts,
but I'm young and I run.
My diet's improving,
I lie to my fridge.
My job's not too taxing,
but I'm young and I earn.
My back hurts,
but promotions are coming.
I'm dating again.
for the one this time now,
but I'm sleeping alone,
and my back hurts
when I wake.
Sunday
I'm gaming inexpertly,
all hands and no thumbs.
She's four blankets deep,
asleep with a dragon.
The air is warm with lamplight.
She sniffles, the nest shifting,
a hand appears, is clasped,
and fetches a smile.
It's Sunday and it's late,
endings are catching trains,
but not for now,
minutes are forever yet.
Follow
Chase blue through black trees,
white ghosts dance and glow.
A park stands between us.
Wheels thumping,
heart moving.
Chasing a banshee's yowl,
seeing it flee its own shadow,
as passing ghosts call questions.
We stop for none but the ferryman.
Blue runs red,
horns blare,
yellow screeches on the turn.
Pedals down,
I chase the ambulance towards home,
and an unmet future.