When night comes on padded paws
settling in my curves, against my aching hips
a familiar tune,
No use fighting the day's screeches
habitual gnats of discontent
that stick around all night
waiting for that glass of water that is never offered.
spent to the bone
I declare to no one in particular; I'm just gonna put my head down
close my eyes
and remember what eyes and toes and fingers feel like.
Parts numbed by day's labor, great and small,
demand full attention.
Before night is over, it puts all parts back in the same whole.