the cure

my old friend
is worried about me
coughing roughly
deep in the night
he stands by the bed
searching my face
for a cue
a clue to my
senseless barking
he paces the floor
for hours
he sniffs my hand
ingesting my malady
to concoct the cure
which he administers
in slow soft licks;
“be well, old friend
the pack is with you.”
and I am well again. mjh


Listen to the cure

My Virtual Chapbook (table of contents)

Share this…