I
am at ease
with
my new, hermetic
life,
devoid of contact
with
person, beast, or fern,
except
I would admit
an
occasional baby
for
playing trotty-horse,
and
a woolly black dog
with
cold ebony nose
and
big brown eyes.
For
each, the baby and the dog,
would
adore me
for
those qualities
that
worry others so,
the
cluelessness that results
in
endless peekaboo,
and
the clumsiness
that
results in cake
upon
the floor.
They
would catch
each
other’s eye,
the
baby and the dog,
and
in their infantic
and
caninic languages
nod
so knowingly
and
say, This old man
is
A O K.
John
Robert McFarland
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