Strolling with the beagle
to catch the sunset clouds
that fill the skybowl,
smattered with color and gold;
parrots, cool wind, and a
fingernail moon;
the no-longer-kitten
who thinks he’s a dog
and walks with us and meows
beloved but forlorn;
a friend on the line
who is shaky and strong,
writing speeches through pain,
planting green amid ruin;
a friend on the line
who says, in her wit,
don’t submit to lesser gods,
say a prayer for aid;
the aid arrives
as sunset and gold,
parrots, cool wind, and a
fingernail moon.
Pushing the Bruise 
Mmmm. I love it. Why did I read this on my iPhone where I can’t pick out all the golden, extra Christ-y bits? Love the images too. This is beautiful.
LOL. Thank you. I loved the evening, which was beautiful indeed.
Gorgeous – both the images and the words.
Thank you, Carryl. It was a beautiful evening! Thanks for reading and commenting.
Love that you used what is probably a daily habit for your muse!