spring pups

Spring Pups

When I was young, my father could not find
a peace agreement with my mother,
because he was so handsome & because
my mother found his women
lying prone in her hand mirror.
He was always away.
But I was too young for intrigue
and passionate for the puppies born
each Spring under the back porch.
Their smell, fresh with discovery, and eyes
that could not see anything at first,
but then opened into a sharper awareness.
I liked how they fell from breast to sleep
in a moment, in a pile, of casual confidence.
The way their legs pulled, from splayed
to standing, in a drunken two step
into a strange world.
My mother said they had a father once,
but he never came back.
But I was too young for intrigue,
and thought nothing of that.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

As Mr. Grauke wisely noted, this is tightly-drawn, multi-layered stuff. Compressed but powerful. Like that's a surprise.

[Clyde Grauke]

Very nice use of counter-point to address multiple levels of meaning. Well done!

[Emily B]

oh, Phibby . . .

there are no words