Man-Made Watering Holes.
Updated on March 12, 2010
Man- Made Watering Holes.
The splinters
of winter crackle,
beneath my rubber
mallot boots.
The white sheets of
diamond studded glass,
stretch over puddles
of yesterdays rains.
They call me to cross
time frozen before me.
Like some strange
behooded god,
I fracture the
worlds below,
finding pleasure
in the crunch,
and in the tiny
ponds my steps leave.
Later birds will
sip the icy water,
of my fragile
walk on thin ice,
perhaps chirping
thank you's
to the beast
that granted
them sustenance,
perhaps not.
©-MFB III
Just Fur A While.
Energetic fur balls
and pink tongues lapping,
tiny tails wagging.
What wonder is this
granted to us by God,
for just the
short duration
of 14 or so years
fate willing.
Cradled in our lap,
or yanking us across
acres of grass
on leashes,
they bring a
special joy
to our
humane warmth.
Dog is God
spelled backwards,
perhaps there is
deeper meaner there,
they truly are both
man's best friends.
I have
buried many
but they still run
in lopsided joy across
the back fields of my mind.
and someday when I arrive
at heaven's gate, if worthy,
a multitude of
four legged friends
will bury me
in puppy kisses,
as God chuckles
with delight.
©-MFB III