you fell and clear it comes
the fragile balance beam my ego
times the numbers in the bank equal
how much care accrues to love
that's there a given formula how near
I come to save you you fall and lick at
wounds sing your special song
siren of the softest skin in dirt
and blood under the porch
it isn't midnight when the envying
of slashes stitched and simple
fixes wakes me and the world burns
and you're stoned
Lovely Padders poem, Kerri. Hope he's on the mend.
ReplyDeleteThanks Kate, he's going well can eat and drink by himself now, but likes me to hold him while he sleeps!
ReplyDeleteaww, the big boof!
ReplyDelete