Nicole Tasker Woods

Exiting a Grays Papaya, 
he waddles off the sidewalk, 
walking the white line of the curb, 
then toppling to his side. 

Rising, 
he holds a look in his eyes 
we cannot decipher . 

A few feet away, my friend and I 
wait for the light to change. 

Looking back, we see him 
waving fiercely, 
as if trying to fly away, 
but he cannot lift off 
with only one good limb. 

Beginning to cross the street, 
he tilts slightly from right to left, 
each step scraping on the pavement. 

Walking without care, 
stumbling through oncoming traffic, 
he is blinded by this beautiful day. 

Miraculously dodging spinning tires, 
he moves safely through two lanes 
without even trying, 
on a path only he can see. 

Then a silver Porsche nine-eleven 
takes a right on red, 
I avert my eyes. 

My friend refuses to look away 
as her mouth sews shut 
in an uninviting frown, 
and I see his future in her face… 

Her eyes choke on a belated blink, 
that cannot hide the image 
of the kiwi, 
fled from the zoo, 
perishing in the city.

My tummy flittered 
When we did kiss 
Your tongue brought me 
To this unknown bliss 

A dreamy touch 
Between sultry thighs 
Good hugs 
Slow kisses & flutterbies 

Raisin licks 
From fingertips 
Impassioned kisses 
From dripping lips 

Soapy skin 
Bantam sighs 
Your silly grin 
And long goodbyes 

Blessed and beautiful 
Persistent and true 
My every desire 
Did breathe in you

Worn blue jeans slide off 
Daddy’s waist, resting on his hips. 
The back right pocket is molded 
around a wallet. 
The way he moves– 
There’s a stride with the right 
Drag with the left. 
He’s too careless to really give a damn if he limps. 
His clothes are as worn as he: 
The dull fleece jacket 
Lies unzipped on his person, 
Flapping with each broken step. 
A blue-battered t-shirt matches his weary eyes 
And a corduroy cap stiched with “Kubota” 
(his favorite brand of toy). 
He sees me and smiles 
I try to hide but it’s unavoidable. 
He loves me, he knows me– 
And we’re in the mall together 
On his only day off. 
And over his shouder 
There’s a shovel.

In the mornings, she fancies 
A brisk walk in the ivy, low to the ground. 
Her footprints staying hidden by the carpeted mat 
As she daintily chooses each step. 
She then sniffs along a cement path that curves 
Around front stoops to a fence in the back… 
Where she can see everything going on down below. 
The path along the fence opens up to a cul-de-sac 
That she crosses in a graceful trot. 
She hops over rubber plants and carefully 
Enters the forbidden rose garden 
That is filled with dew-soaked, yet fragrant pink pedals. 
As she weaves between the flowery bushes 
She warily avoids thorny branches and combs the woodchips 
With her snout to discover an unknown scent. 

In the afternoons, she is game for a three mile trot 
That stretches her legs and fills her tummy 
With an abundance of fresh air. 
As she walks down the street, 
On sidewalks and bike lanes, 
Her head is tilted up to the cement walls: 
Her ears smooth back into Full-Stealth-Mode 
As she becomes a cunning con contemplating 
A leap to the other side. 
So light on her feet, she slips past houses 
With dogs in backyards and none of them the wiser. 
She dislikes pine needles immensely 
And prefers a jagged weave around each pile 
To prevent crunching them with her matted paws. 
One wrong step and her lovely gait 
Transforms into a three-legged hobble 
As her foot is stung by a thorn hiding amongst needles. 

In the evenings, she wrestles, nipping fingers, 
Swinging rope-toy, looking for constant attention. 
Get her riled up and the crazy-switch 
Clicks <<ON>> scoot – scoot – scoot 
Upstairs, 
              Downstairs, 
On couches and coffee tables, from bed to bed, 
Then on the floor with tail straight in the air 
And paws stretched out in front as she is ready-to-pounce. 
Her tongue hangs out of her mouth and to the side, 
With eyes wild and waiting for you to make the next move. 

After dinner, she lounges on couches 
Resembling nothing at all that is disastrous or destructive. 
While lying on her back, tucked in between 
Cushions and pillows, she drifts off to sleep 
With paws dangling above her and toes fluttering… 
The product of puppy dreams.

Painted nails 
Point perfection 
Tainted sails 
And love is lost 

Crawl to surface 
Fear pulls you down 
Drowning in lace 
Silk, ribbons, and curls 

Silver Glistens 
Above blue eyes 
Hear her miss him 
In sad smiles 

Drive to win 
Know the rules 
Haunt the sin 
In dreams that cry 

Silly wishes 
Beautiful hopes 
Butter-soft kisses 
Indefinitely melting