MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Sword Posta by Lisa Shea

Table of Contents

Poetry


Lassie

R.D. Hartwell

I last saw Lassie drinking from the gutter,
Two front paws down over the curb,
Her rump in the air, tail drooped in surrender.

Timmie’s outgrown her companionship,
No more burning barns, orphaned kittens, or
Dangerous mines beyond imagination.


Through days and dreams of despondency
I listen to the dying echoes of my memories.
So many have departed leaving me
Standing out here, naked in imagination:

Tonto and the Lone Ranger,
Dr. Zorloff and Buck Rogers,
Cato, the Green Hornet, Robin, and Batman --
All accelerated beyond my means to follow.


I am left in the dust of their passing.
It dries in my mouth, gritty and bitter.
I realize I no longer have heroes,
On which to fasten my longings,
To allay fear of the dark.

I, too, stoop to drink from the gutter,
Reassuming the position of a child,
Lap dregs of recollection,
Suck the thumb of insecurity.




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