The night emanates it’s dark, sleepy wonder
And the cold wind howls down the holler
The kids are all asleep in their beds
Huddled in blankets to their collar.
I creep across the darkened floor
Stealthily and sleepily I slowly slink.
Deftly avoiding fallen clothes and phones
Into the next room I sink.
On the way back an object catches my eye.
I somehow missed this on the way in.
An obscure familiar brown shape;
But a shape that shakes all men.
For you see when you have two dogs
You get used to gathering their remains.
It’s a horrible chore and quite unpleasant
But unfortunately a common refrain.
The finger approaches the brown shape
Quivering in anticipation of the finger-feel.
Praying for a miracle of miracles to occur
While determining the best way to deal.
Contact… a slight push. No give at all.
The finger-feel makes my heart soar.
With an exaggerated sigh of happiness
I realize a leaf has found its way to the floor.
With a relieved sigh I rise from the carpet
And snuggle back into the cozy bed.
Another crisis has been averted,
As I try to shake the fear from my head.