Wasn’t the only one awoken when the midnight
thunder unleashed its chords of discontent, me
ol mate Podge’d already sensed its imminence,
was anguishing as only he can; saying hey you
pest, keep a lid on it - disvested my chagrin but
restated what we’d agreed upon, one wherein I
would be in his corner, as backup, if he needed
that sort of reassurance - come and sit by me’s
his tacit plea, or better yet, let me sit with you
So we weathered the storm together, silent in a
dark rent by remote lightening & rumbling echo-
separation, roof trashed in bouts of violent rain;
Podge valiantly played canine stoic badly, he’d
confessed its not my scene, & it’s gotten to you
hasn’t it I guess, or’m I seeing these things too
Graphically for this late into the evening …
© 30 September 2016, I. D. Carswell
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