Womanchild

Quietly opening the door,
i see weeping beauty and a goofy dog
lying on the dark covers of the bed.
i lean over and kiss the beauty’s
sleeping
weeping
head.
the fresh smell of her long dark hair
sweeps over me:
she is a womanchild of mine
i want to lie beside,
cuddle;
hum my soft songs in her ear like
nights
when she was young
drifting off to sleep
until
i left her with the sandman
before the goofy dog.
i rise,
pat the goofy dog on the head
who watches me carefully as i
quietly, softly cross the room and
close the door.

- Bonita, California
- February 27, 2004