by Diana F. Lee

I live in stories,
With elfin Griff girls,
Ebony monkey cats,
Always on the move,
Curious beyond reason,
Sniffing at every scent,
Shinnying on high,
Burrowing to great depths,
Going where they shouldn’t,
Invading bags and closets,
Knocking over pottery,
Sparing the goldfish bowl,
How high can they get?
As high as there is a way to get to it,
How they love to look down,
Over and above,
Scaling the dining room table,
Digging in at the base camp of the Bonsai tree,
Letting soil and rock fly,
The first canines to conquer Everest,
They make a place at the Buddha’s feet,
They awaken to the present moment,
They center their energy,
So as to confiscate unfinished necklaces,
Scatter beads about,
Search garbage and wastebaskets,
Scour rooms for my coveted art supplies,
Leave telltale trails of TP,
And incriminating adorable paw prints,
Flower petals strewn all over the house,
No kitchen counter spared,
It’s littered with nibbled items,
Bits of food they didn’t quite consume,
They wrestle and steal each other’s toys,
Play “keep away” to its highest skill,
Box one another on back feet,
Onlookers can’t help but laugh,
As they chase and roll on the backyard lawn,
Or run beaches at breakneck speed,
Leap high in the air,
Hurdle sand dunes and driftwood,
Splash with abandon in the sea,
Face down the ocean’s spray,
Tag one another,
Sometimes colliding comically,
Unbound joy performed in unison,
They come home exhausted,
With surprises from the beach,
Smuggled into my bed,
A skeleton gift of a spent life,
A smelly fish bone,
Laid neatly in the middle of my pillow,
Framed by gritty gray sand on loan,
As if to say,
We were thinking of you today,
With this prize,
We knew you’d like it,
Not as much as our friendship,
Not as much as our loyalty,
Not as much as our wire-haired love,
But a gift nonetheless,
Time to place paws on bed covers,
Rest heads on pillows,
Put selves to bed,
All this to appear human,
They go so far as to roll their eyes,
And grin to communicate,
Yes, Griff girls watch television,
And cue me with a snarl or bark,
Beware… that person is evil,
Look… a cat or elephant has appeared,
Oh no… a giraffe and its calf have disappeared,
They do not like César Millán,
No time for the likes of him,
Whether he likes their kind or not,
They growl in protest,
Whenever they see him,
With or without a dog in tow,
Come the night,
These bad monkeys,
So very good to me,
Know a hundred ways,
To sneak under the blankets,
And into my heart.

The Tale of Two Tails

Expected Release: Fall 2021

M.Ed., M.P.A., PMCTS