For Guinnez
This moment pressed between
blank pages of unfilled days
- what treasure here?
Glitter of promise,
spangle of hope,
soft paunch of prosperity,
scent of dreams on a breeze,
warm, soft, furred,
like the inside curve
of a pet dog's ear,
the moist nuzzlling
of his fond muzzle.
This is contentment.
This is it, goal of all goals,
the utmost point, final summit,
the purpose of frenzy.
This, to be seated on a step
on a fall day,
dog's head resting on my knee,
breeze lifting loose a wisp of my hair.
(Photo of Zinta with Guinnez)
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