Leashed


I dare to care for what's touchable
on this crazy black-dog of a day.

Flute music and fish for lunch
make a day count,
not like a mixer's hoard
but each hour golden,
upwelling like buttercups,
dandelions, tiger lilies.

Wait, sit, stay--
I am on the other end of the leash
teaching loss to lie down at my heals.

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