Country Crossing

Country Crossing
Poetry of Thomas Martin

Thursday, January 6, 2011

spring storm
on the sofa
her bra

(Published Frogpond - Winter - 2010)


People often left their unwanted pets near our house, off a rather isolated country road.  I must have been about 8 years, and my brother about 5, when Fuzzy first appeared. We were playing on some long abandoned lumber.

He immediately began "speaking" with us using an assortment of short barks and growls, and since we were lonely, country kids with few friends and relations, we begged our parents to let us keep him. We named him "Fuzzy," with his tangled mass of black, gray and white fur. He became our constant companion.

dark of the moon
glow of yellow eyes
along the dirt road

(Published Sketchbook - Nov/Dec 2010)