I talk you talk we'll talk


Old Poodle



(Old Poodle)


I have Old Poodle still

He’s here

And at the moment he is resting

He often lets me turn him like

A ragdoll

Like an organism without bones

Not even wire


He’s cheerful

Likes to nip my hand when I give him


Will go outside happily enough

And with more gusto return

His eyes are dark and shiny circles

As they should be

Mister Stephen from Hard Times

Might be impressed


Every now and then however

He looks a little lost

Not as if he doesn’t know where he is

But rather that someone else

Should be here


At least something that was intrusive in

His universe is missing

And the lack of energy and mass

Is disorienting

It’s Old Dachshund

Who died some months ago


C L Couch



Public Domain (no image creator credited)





My sister and her family evacuated Wilmington

Before the hurricane

We’re “bugging out,” she said, no doubt

A reference to all the M*A*S*H episodes we used to watch


Now they’re home, she says

No electricity but plenty of red wine

And all the cleaning-up to do

They’re both alive

Their little dog, too

Old Poodle

While the storming moves up here, I guess

Maybe it will be less

I don’t really know

Who does?

The forecast is given in percentages


And we’ll joke about

The job one gets to have

For being paid to get something wrong


C L Couch



“Ever stared down the gaping eye of a category 4 hurricane? It’s chilling, even from space,” says European Space Agency astronaut Alexander Gerst (@Astro_Alex), who is currently living and working aboard the International Space Station as a member of the Expedition 56 crew.


Land of Treats and Water

Land of Treats and Water


Old Dachshund and Old Poodle

Will one day find this

They look for it all the time

I hope in the kairotic way of keeping divine time

We will be there to meet them

To walk on grass that rolls just right

Up to the edge of heaven


C L Couch


Old Poodle

Old Poodle


Old Poodle’s rather useless,

Like his step-brother also

Old beyond his breed’s



But none too bright with too

Shrill a bark—fine with him,

Since his hearing’s hard


Looking to command him

Is a whimsical try, for he

Has cataracts thus can ignore

Any words he doesn’t want

To see


I think Old Poodle likes things

This way—no expectation

Presses, while his interests

(Not surprising, is it?) take

Away all other precedence


After all, anything not sensed

Can become preeminent


Useless, loud Old Poodle is a

Dear—‘til God wants him, we

Want him here

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