Baby, loving you is moving mountains
Loving you is ending skies
If I didn't love you anywise,
I couldn't call it love.

Baby, loving you is crying silence
Loving you is burning rain
If I wouldn't love you all the same,
I couldn't call it love.

Their names are:
Katie, Bobo, Bear--
Max and Buddy,
Sushi and
Grafin Hegwig von Stubenrein*,
Hedy for short.

For 30 years, dachshunds, chihuahuas
and miniature schnauzers.

Chihuahuas are definitely
the undercover dogs,
but dachshunds will burrow too.

Hedy and Buddy at the foot
of the bed, cross- and lengthwise.
Bobo too, but anywise.

Sushi and Max like it
when we sleep on our sides--
preferring the crooks of the knees.

Katie was an armpit dog.

Dogs are mobile and in a pinch
do double duty as a heating pad--
but a cold nose on bare skin
is welcome in the heat of the summer.

Night or nap, the company is welcome--
Did we rescue them or did they rescue us?

Mangled, bony fingers, groveling
for lapping water, a dendritic rivulet
ceases its division for no one

I powder the amethysts for sand, for
only the sensation of opulence, anywise
the silver tarnishes in abundance

And what's the worst I'd ever seen
if not our maize sun ashen, drained of its
rise and incentive to foster grass

I liked life a lot
better when it held
more promises
places where you feel
appreciated
At least the leaves breeze
the wind sounds like the sea
I can still fleet anywise
never naturally happy
with silence and belonging