I got nothing right now but knowing I got to hold tight
and hope she don’t throw me.
I have lost the way words used to move in me and everything is
wind-scoured and dust ruined and bone dry. Dessicated.
That’s a word. Bereft is another. Something has taken my measure
and finds me wanting. I wander through the rooms of my life
and everywhere it is one door closing on the next.
And me befuddled.
I’ll be dog.
I have always believed like a child in the power of love.
I won’t quit it, though shaken in the maw of a great, angry beast.
I will believe.
But when the beast has tired of sport and I lie busted in the dirt
I get my doubts.
I got my doubts after all.