untitled:
now that the scent…
I. after
the scent of the beloved
had opened my heart,
I dropped my basket in the
supermarket aisle
and sobbed for lost litter mates.
home, I close the door
and howl. oh, beloved,
grief
is your comfort,
where is your kiss?
II.
what
do we wait for? echoes.
who do we wail for
under the moon?
siblings,
parents, pups,
gone too soon -
heart and "hold me" have left.
though I love again, I miss you,
and the moon is cold.
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