A to Z Blog Challenge Meets NaPoWriMo
Theme: It’s the Little Things
April 4, 2015
I sit in sun to warm myself,
to melt the ice-heart chilling my chest,
to heat and speed the flow of blood and love.
Dogs lie dead-like on
bleached grain-raised wood,
unstirring till the sun grows too warm
on black fur.
How will I know when I’ve had too much sun?
Will I know to move before I burn?
Can I ever get enough?
Or rather dogs lying
on my bed, at my feet,
nestled firm against the curve of my leg—
a paradox of inconvenience and comfort.
The duck, or rather the drake,
is severely confused, baffled, rebuffed,
chasing with flapping wings—
with his best allure, his premium pick-up line—
a little red-capped chicken,
who flees in dread
from this creepy, pushy dude
One hundred percent fat-free,
wired for irony,
plumbed for the laugh,
powered by a melty-drip heart.