A dog is outside just sitting there
food was left nearby
but dog just stands langidly
outside looking in
in it's hometown Kemah
the dog won't move nor bark
it's whining and whimpering
  
For too long a time the dog waited outside the red steel rddbba spare room building
where the master of the house
gets in a daily basis to write a love letter waiting for his first love to arrive to read them BBA/RDD.

naturally dog just sits there watching other women getting in there reading unauthorized his love letters
but dog dears not bark
fearing they might call the pond
the animal control to cage and
euthanize even

the winning dog outside looking in, understands something that
others inside there looking out
know too well to keep dog outside
looking in to die thinking victory
that it is too late to get inside the red building or to be taken in as a family member a pet to be loved protected
taken to the bet
for first aid to tend dogs old and new wounds given a collar a name
some bones toys and a bedding.

it's believed some people are
like big dane dogs arriving at the right time to a home not built for them and forcing their way in free to roam
begin to discover treasures never saught by it's original rightful intended ownner now outside looking in.

This battered smaller breed circus bagabund dog langidly looking in
forever waiting for the master
of the house to run out to pet feed protect the long awaited pet
the left behind
because it simply
seemed not to able to bark or to follow or beg for it all within time.

this circus dog whimpering
shivering cold
outside looking in

might just be the spirit soul
of the one who loves you
the most in this whole
wide world true love.
~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
03/18/2020.

Pointed, sharp and searching, ever in. Some people are needles and I the thread. Integrate me if you must, though I will not be sown of my own accord. I would much rather spin in perfectly spooled schools on my own. Thus, is the nature of the singular thread, alone. Sometimes seen. And sometimes integrated in both step and social seam.

But to the occasional social seamstress, sure.
Cut me in.

At the bottom of every cup
Their is either
Acceptance or ignorance
Loss or desire
For more or less knowing
There is thirst in every human throat
For the drink of mind which will return
For some a nothing ounce
For others all which the senses can possibly remeber and inspire
With fire, and water, and heart to beat
No drink lasts by drink
Or by slow plastic perspire

Like a train track whine
become embodies both peaks and beams
The very best of
(kind)
If their ruminations on record can bounce
from flowing cloud to star and back again
Without falling an inch but
blooming into down an atmospheric
(ear)
With peaking echoes so gently drawn
that it can stir the cattails fur
and create rainless ripples across the worlds of
(water)

That is when good harping is best
As a sound so fragile that it’s almost human
in its death at last
Regardless of digital
(wax)

I love this sounding verse to pass
(me)

You're very air
Is a voice my ears drink deeply of
Entranced by waters
And by the tales of a home yet known
If I sought out the trees
To sing you back into my own song
Would you hear me from this distance far
And come running
Knowing henceforth and forever
Where you belong

This rain has met its match in me
Such short ends becoming nothing

Bursting I am lonely at all
Not a heartthrob

But tall as Pine and less of Willow

It’s just a breeze

I ache when you’re not here