Your canine heart beats against my finger
to the rhythm of the rain. A thunder discharge
in summer, a great god's stomach rumble
that ends our peace-marinated summers days with
an azure mist.
Your fur hangs low from butterfly-brittle bones
and the last-leashed cackle of ill-wished intent
(to drench blossoms and deck chairs) incites
yelps acerbic to my ears.
My giant figure
with complacent ape-like features
devoid of primal twisting for dread of
neon scars across the sky
fears to break your trembling spasms
with my security's disrespect.
And though my artisan thinks
to capture firefly raindrops against the window
it's in your eye my inner self
with admiration entwines.