Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 30

THE CALL

Within the sound of your voice
I sing
In the beat of your heart
I heal
I feel in your touch
And dance when your toe starts to tap
I see myself in your beauty
I warm inside your embrace
Your thoughts are my inspiration
Your lungs breathe me in and blow me out
I soar in your flight
And dream in your waking
I ring in your ears
Fall with your tears
I’m lost in you
Found in you
Travel and lounge in you
I share all your rantings
And hide in your secrets
You hear and caress me
My darling
You know who I am


Return to an old joy for a visit.
*



Rex

Hungry dogs who love me anyway,
dance around waiting to be fed.
If they didn’t love they
would take bloody bites and I don’t forget it.
These puppies have teeth,
like cigarettes I want to smoke but don’t.
And meanwhile back on the farm
I seek to quiet the whines and barking
of the unfed, malnourished familiarity
which writhes at my ankles and jumps at my knees.

I can no longer pat my disquiet on the head
and expect it to stay or heal.
I must hunt down the beast which bothers me
and feed the meat of it to the pups.

I must not leave the lopers to quarry my burden
if I want to remain master
and leave them to be pet.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault