A to Z Blog Challenge Meets NaPoWriMo
Theme:  It’s the Little Things
April 4, 2015


Deck Sitting

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?

DSC_0594   DSC_0613



Dog SittingIMG_6273


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.


8 thoughts on “D

  1. My admiration for your sense of humour has just shot through the roof, and it was already about high-rise penthouse level anyway. I cannot stop laughing about the duck, I mean the drake.

    Thank you, so much, for sharing your poetry in this format. It is an absolute joy.

Overheard at a kiln: "The main teaching of all religions is, don't be a dick." You heard the man--comment away, but...you know...

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