NaPoWriMo “Daisy, My Other Dog”
I stand at the sink,
sorting the dirty glasses and plates.
In between putting forks and spoons
in the dishwasher and cleaning a fry pan
that doesn’t fit in there,
a quiet yearning
scoops out my heart,
distracts my arms, pulsates
in the air in front of me,
and I look up.
There she is.
Across the back yard and behind the barrier.
My other dog. Daisy.
Her face a small sun shining from behind the chain link,
she illuminates the molecules, particles, atoms, cells, that
dance between her eyes and our window. She doesn’t move.
She waits without a word,
in a state so pure, I cannot help
but go back there to bask in it.
I lean over to scratch her in the good spots.
I hunker down, whisper secrets, and she listens.
She gives my fingers tender kisses
through the fence.
