Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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The morning watch

He sits behind the screen,
the sun’s minute hand
remaps his curves in warmth.
With not much else to do
his morning’s work is
out there, living traffic
he will watch and note.
Force marched ants in
single file, small brown toads,
leaf rustles out of sight,
the swooping zizz
of dragonflies.
A hummingbird returns
to drink, then preen. This
makes him smile. Even they
must stop and rest.
The small world quiets, starts to
wait for shade, when high sun
moves away, raptors drafting
on its currents. He sees
and understands. Feeling
stiff he’s up to find another
patch of sun. A whoofing sigh,
then head on paws he sleeps.

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san san for aggie

sitting up her eyes meet mine
a dog, she cannot hold the stare
full of love, she can but try
trust earned, love gained a certain sign
my eyes smile back with soul laid bare
this gentle dog now surely wants to play
we run the grassy hill my dog and I
eyes search for sticks, she loves to lead the way

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Day 14. a san san, seven lines with three images or words repeated three times abc-abd-cd.


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the watcher

a lightning blaze of white
bisects his loving gaze
certain that the work he craves
lies with his people,
center of a now-rich world
in which he rests but lightly,
keeps watch often,
accepts kisses freely given
knows he has a place
forever.

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my son’s dog, Helo, is a smart, loving border collie pit mix. for day 26 of NaPoWriMo 2014.