The Old Man-Cheyenne
 
Time for bed my body said.
Beneath the chair my hand pulls out
The old man.
 
A moment's fear of fast deep bites. blood.
but no. 3 years and here's a first...
Asleep.
 
In my hands and forearms-the fierce warrior-
limp and warm.
I feast my eyes.
the moon cascades down
the long bony body.
faded fur.. fading life.
 
The old man. Narrow snout never quivers.
kissing his ear.
his tiny paw.
 
I hold the side of my face against him;
sliding down. gliding above.
Sweet and soft his breath
 of sleeping sighs.
 
People with cell phones up to their ears.
Calling off loneliness.
 
Me-it's the old man: up to my heart in the dark
as God calls me to share His beauty
in the moonlight
[Posted in FML issue 3879]