Today's poem is by Michael Bazzett

Moon
       

The night you climbed in bed and curled up close
because your hair'd been shorn and the cool
air of the winter house had found bare skin,
you fell asleep and grumbled into dreaming
like an old farmer after too much wine
until scrabbling toenails on the roof lifted
your head alertly in the dark. "Racoon,"
I said. Your tail thumped twice under the sheets.
If you did not realize you were a dog
until that moment, I'm unsurprised. You looked
at me then said, "Imagine if I'd lain up there
in ambush." Your glinting humor is so gentle
as to disappear at times, like how you fall
abashed when singing love songs to the moon.

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Copyright © 2023 Michael Bazzett All rights reserved
from 32 Poems
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission