by Tehya Sky
Ever the wishing well, said the cat
to the dog, ever the doe-eyed kiss
monster, won’t you look at the red
robin up in the tree and stop looking at
But you, began the dog, you exude
a coniferous charm I’ve only ever seen
before in the moon, and she is far too far away for
me, or so it seems, or at least I’m not her
Both of you, said the robin,
both of you sing songs of tapered dreams,
eyes quietly nestled in the wax of the soul.
Remember the wick, the heart’s bible therein.
You speak like the wind, murmured the cat,
while the dog, dumbstruck and silent,
moved a paw to her back.
You are the heart of the eagle, not
a different bird, it is so?