2. I glimpsed you
at the furthest reach
of your shelter kennel.
All I needed.

3. Trembling, curled
between my daughter’s
slender shoulders and the wall.
Thunder rolls out overhead.

4. New healthy kibble.
Three dried peas
on the floor
beside an empty dish.

5. A bark of terror
alarms the passing
of that Great Pyrenees
from three doors down.
She has told you
she will kill you.

6. Howls of joyful
greeting, fleeting,
as each family member
returns home.
Dance of devotion.

7. Men. In hats.
With beards.
One of you,
in your cruelty,
shaped this fear.

8. Each untasted morsel
carried in stealth
under cherrywood
onto patterned, handtied
wool and silk,
for inspection.
And perhaps,
consumption.

9. Burrowed deep,
dreaming under duvet, under darkness,
between us,
our sheltering, still sleeping
protects him.

10. An energetic flap of ears,
travels
from tip
to tail,
announces morning.

11. A tiny snore,
counterpoint to my typing.
Constant companion.

12. Who knew
we could feel
such deep pleasure
so soon after
such loss?

13. We are
who we are.
We share
what we have.
Who could ask
for more?