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  Jan 2016 am i ee
Samuel Hesed
She stood on the edge of a cliff,
Looking out to a world that didn't exist,
Waiting for the winds kiss.
This poem was inspired by: Langston Hughes, "Suicide Note."
Copyright © 2015 Paul Forbes All Rights Reserved
am i ee Jan 2016
was it you who visited
the yard the other day?

out in bright sunlight?

tonight you sit off
the side of the road

catching sight of you
my heart soars with
delight

wild creature
you bring
nature and
all her healing
into my life

lost for many moons
you
and all the other
critters kept watch
over me

waiting
waiting
waiting

until i
would return
to all of you
again.
the mad tectonic shifts seem to have abated...
life settles into new patterns
where will it go next?
am i ee Jan 2016
3 am

waxing moon
high in sky
growing each night

empty roads
passing lights
cold frozen water
covering asphalt

water main break
a sign of cold winter

a fox sits off to
the side of the last street
eyes ablaze
yellow

hunting
watching
being

when will i
simply
be,

devoid of
the
mess
of
modern
civilization?
am i ee Jan 2016
Om came in on the dog's nose
  Jan 2016 am i ee
Joy
Stopped moving, final twitches -
****** dry -
Colorless -
Eyes still open, tongue hanging free -
"Dead as a dog" -
just cold.


No I don't want to linger on the cliche of death
But I still wonder how the life ebbs away, silently
How it unsticks itself
How the limbs, once stiff with life
Resign into the shadows
With that final sigh.
January, 2016
am i ee Jan 2016
morning coming
owl hoots

in the woods
out back in a tree

first heard
since puppyhead
died

been moving too fast
not stopping to pause

dear owl
how happy it makes
me to hear
your call
am i ee Jan 2016
a few hours tucked under
Egyptian cotton white sheets
fluffy duvet
and fur coats
doubling as blankets

waking on a cold, cold
winter night
hot tea for warmth
legs tucked under

crossed in prepaation for
silent reflection
for silence

clouds obscuring the
bright stars and
moon's radiant light
of earlier

always a struggle
stay up with the night?
go to bed with the
stuffed animals?

these night's feel
desperately empty
without the soft breath
the soft snores
the soft padding of
little puppyhead

imbibed waaaaay
too much red vino
the other evening
watching Downton Abbey

drowning sorrow?
or simply quaffing
great red wine at the
pace of a thirsty being,
lapping and gulping
quickly and greedily

my guess is the latter
a bulk of drinking issues
stem from the pace of consumption

later that night,
startled awake by
uncomfortable tummy
sensations

crawled onto the deck
and hurled with
great gusto
wine and food

sweet memories flooding
this mind..
reminded of many a night
the sweet puppyheads
did the same

Ah... the sweet freedom
a good throw up brings

the goddesses and gods
taking pity upon
this suffering sad soul
reprised the moment
again later that night

crawling out onto cold
frozen wood
magnificent stars
the vast heaven above
looking down
smiling and laughing
stars twinkling with delight

hurling away
laughing at it so
in the midst,
feeling so close to
my sweet puppyheads
as i did

funny,
the little things
the quirky things
that make us laugh
that bring great
peace to our soul

what a blessing from
heaven to find myself
out in the yard
on all fours
on a gorgeous winter night
feeling so close to those
i miss so

don't ever stop laughing....
and crying....

you'll short your system out
and then you WILL have real
trouble on your hands.....
later the next day... a fox wandered up to the deck and took to eating the *****... my my what hilarious juxtapositions the divine provides... and that was one skinny little mangy fox that came calling.... i did put out some good left over meat later, not partially predigested this time....
even now peals of laughter ring out... still missing my puppyheads but now it is time to wander off ...to wander out into the night.......
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