Waits each day
For me to walk outside.
She doesn’t hide;
I’m bringing food
In a jar that rattles.
We never talk;
I nod at her,
Then fill the bowl
And sit apart
On cement steps,
Pretending I’m not looking.
After weeks
She doesn’t keep
A watchful eye on me,
Trusting that I will not pull
Anything suspicious
While she’s eating.
I’m the meek
And scruffy man
Who picked her as a friend.
She’s okay with this
Relationship, okay
I’ve never asked her in;
But when she’s full,
Off she strolls.
Discretion is good sense.
©2018, John I. Blair 7/25/2018
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