“Good grief, it’s the dawg!”
Dad shouts as clouds of dust settle
Dog poses. Loves gettin’ her picture took!
Grins captured. Disappear. In a flash.
Segue to stirred-up years and fuming
Chili-peppered, shooting sparks
Days. Flaring high as matches at dark
And times changing. Back n’ forth.
Dad whispering our names now
A distant gaze. Seeing angels afar
Ushering him homeward. Gone.
Bookmarks placed. Pages turned.
Curios of life diced, sorted, seared
Looking back. Calling stars by name
One day you let life be what it is
A jumbled jambalaya. Seasons.
© 2011 S. Michaels
Knowing Every Acre