I Speak for my Dog

I speak for my dog.

His voice has a loopy, uneducated sound.

It amuses me to think he would talk like this.

His comments on life limited to food and walks,

If he just could form the words.

When I take a moment to really see him,

His eyes appear sharp and wise,

Sympathetic to my plight:

I’m just a “two-legger”.

He probably has a clipped, British accent:

 “A chew bone, please. Do make it fun”.

“There’s a good lad”, he states with his tail

As I fetch him another chew.

If only I could be him.

His howl beckons others

To echo his call.

His trust in me is complete.

He knows no war

Nor the endless, savage drive

To be better than another

For the sake of promotion or ego.

He finds that getting belly-rubs is

The best way to relax humans

As we don’t seem to know any better.

I hug him sometimes

Because I don’t know what else to do.

I lose sight of important things

And feel small.

Trapped in a kennel of my own design.

 “What’s all this, now?”

He asks by putting his head on my lap,

“It’s going to be alright. Now there’s a good lad”.

Muscle Car

My car and I have much

In common.

We are older models,

No frills, American made.

Muscle all the way.

Going slow when days

Are grey with ice,

Threatening snow.

The reservoir for windshield fluid

Is empty in my car.

A leak somewhere underneath

Dries it out when I need it most.

I refill it (now and then)

Vowing each time to get it fixed.

The place where my tears

Waited for release is empty, too.

My eyes remain cynical and dry

With the dirt and grime that comes

From the pain I see in front of me

And that I leave in the past.

I’ll fix it (me) next time.

Later.

After I need it most.

A Valentine's Day Poem for 2018

A New Rhythm

I thought to myself

I have not danced in a while.

Then spun in ballet’s discipline.

The world became a blur,

And I lost my balance.

Dancing in front of the mirror

Brought self-doubt: That I was

Just an aging man

(wondering in embarrassment),

When and where youth had hidden itself.

I thought to myself

I have not danced in a while.

No matter what music played,

My feet no longer laughed.

I was looking for the exits, and leaving alone.

Then you walked into the room of my life,

And my heart skipped to a new rhythm.

My soul kept step with my eyes as they

Were held in the embrace of your smile.

Holding you, every song became my favorite.

With you, my whole being dances

In combinations of old and new feelings.

(Finally) belonging to another who knows the same steps.

We glide into feelings neither of us knew could be ours.

With you, the band never stops playing.

I am tired of thinking to myself.

Let’s dance.