Mi Corazon
~ Louise Driscoll
In the darkest before the dawn,
my eyes not yet open,
my thoughts driftless from
a night of little sleep
awareness slowly awakens.
My fingers are buried in a dense
darkness of quiet and calm.
I don't know when this happened,
but my mystery dog has settled
her silky self alongside me.
This is rare.
I remember when I taught her to play.
I had never done such a thing.
I thought all dogs knew how to play.
But not my Corazon.
I cannot imagine what force or person or circumstance
removed her joy
She stops traffic sometimes,
with her looks, not her antics.
People ask:
"What kind of dog is she?"
I don't know, really.
"How old is she?"
I don't know, really.
These things don't matter. Really
She came to me during grief,
and she had her own,
and in our becoming acquainted
we taught each other
joy
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