Monica

She comes around, a starving cat.
The smell of chicken on the grill
Became too much for her. I ask
Her if she'd like a beer. She nods.
I bring her one and gesture toward
An awaiting seat. She sits. I know
That she won't speak. I'll bring
Her food. She'll eat it all, and thank
Me only with her eyes before
She slinks away.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 117 times
Written on 2019-05-15 at 15:51

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
A loyal companion, even if it only wants food and beer. I've known some of those too.
Ashe
2019-05-18


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i could use a beer, too.

the thank you with the eyes is spot on. this rings true, the whole thing.
2019-05-15