A Northshore Christmas 2020

So thinking of a present for Christmas,
Maybe a lil something in rhyme,
But not sure it’s right,
That this might not be the time.
But the good is worth remembering
And the great was sweet given by your leave.
So, here’s a little something,
But in magic you still must believe.

Puppydog had come before the rains
A sweet bit of plain good heaven
A-jumping and a-tusslin’ all day
From dawn’s seven until dark’s seven.
One day Puppydog was gone!
The door had somehow been left open!
Crushed, she looked all over and all under
But P’dog was gone, tweren’t no reason for hopin’.
The days sore passed one over the other
But there’s your 2020, don’t you know?
Hearts curl upon themselves these days;
For the happy, sometimes there’s nowhere to go.

So, a cold blustery empty kind of a day
Brought the Northshore Christmas Eve—

Trying to nap in the bunk beds,
She thought she’d heard some skritchin’?
She lumbered to her dead-tired feet
To open the door off the fine kitchen—

Puppydog! Yelping warm holiday greetings!
Oh, such reunited hearts awash in love’s tears.
So, I wish you a very Merry Christmas
And a bundle of the happiest of New Years!

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Following No One

I seem to be slouching
Forward onto my hospice bed
But I still remember my name
And I’m sure the cat’s been fed
But I can’t open the Just Tart Cherry
And the shoulder’s crap as per usual
All the Senators have stopped representing
Their polity with a calm and disdain casual
Tracked my keys into the box
Outside the box of what I can remember
Who I am and where I’m going—
I’m sure Fest Acadien is still in November
Pouring the second merlot
They say it’s good for my heart
I should move over to Alexandria
If I’d ever own what it is to be smart
Summter lingers on here is Austin
Need to replace the ac filter soon
I hope the rains pass soon
I wanna to see the Harvest Moon
But I know what’s coming
And I should get ready
But I’m so tired these days
And my thoughts are unsteady
To pack all this important stuff again
Boxes in boxes, memories in stiff cardboard
I had followed her here, a path made easy
But now to move for myself, O Lord
I’ll die here in Casablanca
Or any likely foreign shore
Not ready for the next chapter
Not alone, at least; not anymore
But time to let Jack out into the night’s stew
Hey Mr Tambourine Man
In the jingle jangle morning…