I sit at my deskthe gentle whirl of fans
and in the distance
a dog barks
the mood is chocolate
bittersweet
and I wonder
if in ten years
when all is done
when all is said
what I remember
the most
is the sitting
the fans
and the distant sound
of a dog barking
hell is not fire
not brimstone
it is vacant eyes
and lips without care
pain not in yell
or anger
but rather
in a quite house
of covers pulled
over the head
and dogs that lie
knowing
lie as sandbags
to back and stomach
knowing
all is not right
they hear what
I hear
and on other days
at other times
return they would
the bark
that comes
from a distance
but not today
today they lie
back to stomach
quiet as the house
quiet as the future
2 comments:
Though I don't comment much, I do come over and read. Enough to enjoy your writing and give you something:
http://feralintensity.com/2009/04/07/she-loves-me/
Scath, thank you. That was very kind. :-)
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