When i get back from
so far out on the Caribbean Sea
all around the house will
hang an air of mopery
hair will cover the couch
the floors will need to be swept
a round nest about the size of an Akita
will be burrowed into the bed
she'll cast her tubby brown body against me
the happiest of the happy-to-see-me's i'll ever get
i'll bust out her collar, ringing it like a crown over her head
and her brown eyes will say
don't ever leave again.
I wrote this for my nine-year old dog Libre, who, ahead of my next trip to Haiti, is already missing me.