The Porch

dogs sit idly beside my melancholy

it is a holy right for now maybe ever

we rest in its blunt protections

of a summer morning glaring

in its own creeping heat

I wonder aloud about a heron blue as day stuck

against the palest smudge of leftover moon

why doesn't it just fly away be free from us

from our still willows that have never wept before

that shade each other give easy comfort

dogs leave me and collapse in shadows

pant in the blankness

in the shunning

of anything that

might remain

JP

Updated

The Porch

8.18.2021

JPPestana