There at the bottom of the stair…
same old constant companion,
who appears without a care.
Dauntingly obtuse, yet constantly aware.
Collective one way, late conversations…
promises of open mind and knitted, kneaded beds.
An encampment of chasing shadows with disregard…for poetic stance.
Here and there..and, all about, with no second human chance.
A love, at last…not confusing…simply a faithful constant companion.
Fur lined addiction.
Shameless derelicts of self reflection.