Crestfallen and with himself

He came back sad and disappointed
Not from anywhere in particular

Dog is stretching away from its middle
And lies face down in the dirt

Sitting at any table, reading anything
All about the life of others

Squeezing a ball in his hands
To relieve and relive

Your work’s cut out for you
Like little plastic animals
Always so imperfect
That can’t stand up on their own

Journal Comments