Harlequin Great Dane Roots for Scraps

Small, smaller my mother grew

under the blankets, making a joke of the old days

when she dieted on grapefruit and cottage cheese.

I think I was the first to say, stop, when her lips locked,

refused the straws, jell-thickened water, medicine.

Is this how I will leave, slipping

slipping down?  Or will I dig in, like this great white & black

spotted dog pushing his nose into garbage, a high-cheeked

red-haired girl tethered to his leash.

alison meyers

Alison Meyers ©2009. All Rights Reserved.