The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by James P. Nicola
Returning
I ring at the door where I stayed awhile, a while ago. A stranger stands before me: strange until I recognize the smile now higher than my own, plus several more adjusted by the ages. At the fire, the daughter dares to dredge a long-tired joke. We laugh and reminisce, no, reconspire the pranks we’d played on walks around the lake. The cocker spaniel purrs, my pal again, and wags. Then, weary of formalities, she circles close, remembering the days she leapt in laps, and nuzzles through my knees to lodge a warm, wet and willing chin. A thumping tail inquires where I have been. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |