Repost: Max & Kali

O-two-three-o hours
My two dogs howling
Tumbling out the sliding glass door
Into the 85 degree darkness
First quarter moon lights up Live Oaks
Dressed in shawls of Spanish Moss
Remnants of the meteor shower showing
In a sky littered with a Southern Cross, planets
And suns dead for billions of years.
Whatever set the dogs off escaped across the fence
Disappearing into the cacophony of the swamp
Little Florida floozie struts around the yard
Looking for a good time
Big guy recalls his dignity and patrols the perimeter
I stumble around with a flashlight, finally convincing them
To leave the humidity to the nocturnals.
Back in bed the little one
Nudges me to the edge of patience
Snuggled against me, she is a bio-heater
The air con cannot keep up
I count to one hundred
I alphabetize Beatles’ songs
I rhyme words for future poems
I get out of bed and fire up the computer
While the dogs sleep the sleep of the innocent
Twitchingly reliving their middle of the night
Escapade as I debate the merits of o-three-o-o coffee.

(c) 2014 Poetry of Memory: Six Decades from the Space-Time Continuum


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s