She was crazy wild,
running
even on hind feet
faster than me,
always testing the wind.
She was crazy wild,
laying
on the passenger seat
in the old truck
on the arm of this old man
sly kisses on my ear
She was crazy wild,
just wanted to be near
but ran...
running,
to the end of her chains
to the end of her innate
boundaries
circles
and back ,
back to check her center...
diameters,
as if at the length of invisible restraint,
She was crazy wild,
love incarnate
loyally blind
ignorant of
affirming any consequent,
brief love
in the scheme of things
she was,
friend.
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Oh boy, did this make me cry.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know Greta well in her short but wild life.
I always thought I would, once she settled into her body.
I thought she and Taz would learn to play and be friends.
It was not to be.
I was honored, however, to be present for her burial, to lay rocks upon her grave, and to allow the tears to come.
Free of chains, her spirit is free to run fast.