#tucker
When I first met you, I cried.
Looking upon your silhouette, I wondered.
Reading your articles, I wanted to know you.
Searching for hours, I would find you.
A traveling boxer, just breaking into fame.
A husband, a father.
She moved from Pennsylvania to Oregon, and was your demise in 1902.
I moved from Pennsylvania to Oregon, and I will remember you.
A decade younger than her, but I feel the responsibility heavy on my shoulders. The resemblance to me, uncanny
She took you to your grave and I will celebrate your life.
Why did it have to take this long?
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 1:35 AM UTC
Growls or barks me from my easy sleep,
Dragging from my lips a groan, or sometimes worse,
Because a wind-blown branch is tapping at the house,
Or the neighbor dog is yelling out his worries to the moon.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, the dog
Moves from his place at our feet
To the valley between you and me,
Settles atop the comforter,
Lays his shaggy head upon my chest,
And sighs a deep, contented sigh
To say he is part of the pack, happily at rest.
Sometimes in the middle of the night I remember
That humans aren't the only family members.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 11:52 AM UTC