Cocoa

My dog is 15 years old

He’s still a champ

As far as senior age goes

He has a hard time getting up

It’s a struggle

His hips are going

He walks slow

And when I let him out

In the morning

He pees for 30-40 seconds straight

Nonstop

You’d think he was pissing

His last piss

One of them will be

His teeth are receding

Or falling out

He smells terrible

But I don’t tell him

I just wash and shampoo him

As often as I can

He doesn’t like it

He tolerates it

Sometimes baring his teeth

Under a curled black lip

I have to remind him

Who I am

These days

He’s shedding so much hair

I fear for his masculinity

I vacuum it up daily

Filling canisters

And dumping them 

In the trash

When I tell him

I love him

He looks at me unresponsive

Or quizzically

Through foggy brown eyes

We’ve been through a lot together

He’s slow to take a treat

He’s maintenance now

Long past are the days

Where I threw a stick

Out into the Delaware River

Over and over

It didn’t matter

How far I threw it

Cocoa 

Would always

Swim out and retrieve it

Bring it back to shore

And tease me

With it

Running around

Refusing to give it up

Easily

Baring perfect teeth

Sunk into the wood’s flesh

Growling

I miss that fight 

My friend

Medicine Cabinet

After exploring the meds

In my parent’s 

Medicine cabinet

While recently visiting

To see exactly what they were on

And pilfering

A hand-full

Of the good stuff

Shutting the twin doors

Looking into

The sterilized mirrors

Staring

Realizing

That someday

Not too far off

The commute towards death

Is closer 

Than I think

That I will 

Be much like my parents

I can see the 

Same shared physical features

There in the glossy glass

They are smaller

Than I last remember them

And move slower

Outside the bathroom door

I know

They visit the doctor

On a regular basis

I recall the denture cream

The Preparation H

The pain-aids

The brown and white

Plastic pharmacy bottles

With laser printed labels

On clean shelves

Behind Home Depot mirrored glass

On my way out

Wiping my hands

On peviously un-used

Pretty guest towels

With a seashore theme

And kiss them goodniight

The lawn sprinklers came on

As I was walking out the door

Being careful to protect my pockets

And their acquired bounty

So they wouldn’t get wet

Until I reached my car

Got into the stale smell
Shut the door

And waved

Good-bye

Honeysuckle

Honeysuckle

I just pushed my face

Into a wild honeysuckle patch

While walking in the woods.

The smell was rousing and spirituous.

Then nature’s art

Of a small, simple, smooth flower

Of ivory and gold.

Much like

When I’m divining

Between her thighs

The nectar

Seeps forth

Aromatic

And seducing.

Beauty is everywhere.

If you turn over some stones

Get close to the ground

Listen...

Perhaps...

I pull my head 

Out of honeysuckle.

I press forward on.

Always.