Circus Pup

We adopt

a consolation prize,

with the adorable name, Cheers,

who must have come from the circus.

She leaps straight from the floor

into my arms.

Flips around and jumps again

if I hitch her hind legs just so.

One small

black-and-white furball

with floppy bangs

fills a whole hurting house

with laughter

and light.

Curling her soft self

into the safe crook of my neck

each night she sword swallows

all my darkest thoughts, until

they disappear.

She Houdinis herself

free from her harness

takes her magic act

across our long country road

where cars are rare

but fast

an escape artist

giving us thrills and chills.

Cara and Christopher dress her in

a sparkly pink tutu

that rustles as she runs

toward my outstretched arms

waiting to catch her.

Today’s performance interrupted

when a wicked bike

swings to meet her

instead.

The speeding motorcycle

appears from thin air

sends her rolling

and rolling, leaves her

still and bleeding.

My talented girl’s final trick

incomplete

because I mistimed

her cue

when I called.