Wordless Love – the Sweet Experience of Loving an Old Dog

Sweet Jackson, the old black dog, asleep by the fire

Wordless Love

in this light-shortened night

I draw near the fire

with my old black dog.

neither of us

can keep our feet warm

anymore.

I place my hand on his ribs

and watch them rise and fall,

feel the beating

of his precious heart,

and know then the sharp dread

of the beginning of ending

of dissolution, of the warm

moist breath of emptiness,

of loss, of the exquisite fragility

of this simple, bottomless

wordless love

© 2021 jafink/oldbonesnewsnow.com

Costa Brava

 

costa brava sunrise

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Costa Brava

 

here’s to tits. And hot sun,

beaches and sand, oil

and oversized towels.

To skinny tits widely spaced

on broad strong chests,

and to pendulous breasts

swinging like the balls

of great bulls, to pointy tits

and to those distended by time.

here’s to young girls

in string suits and mothers

with nipples swollen by the nurse,

and to the proud round bottoms

of middle age, such succulent fruits

ripened on the vine – here’s

to all the promises, intended

and not, spoken, unspoken

and untried. here’s to the small waves

lapping at her legs, to the sunlight

rising, reflected, shimmering

through the sweet space of never

between her thighs

as she makes her way down

to the water and slips

into the soft blue mouth

of the deep. And here’s to all

the old men staring

from the cafes lining the beach,

each straining his yellowing eyes,

each licking his cracked sandy lips,

each awash in the memory

of the sharp salty tang of the sea.

 

 

 

©jafink/oldbones.newsnow.com