Down A Quart Poem by Paul Klobusicky

Down A Quart

Sometimes he doesn’t need us at all
Although we see him everyday
As he waits for his name to be called
As his day unfolds

Walking on all fours
Sharing space like others before
Making his tours
Stating his case by the door

Or waiting by the kitchen door
Even lying on the floor
Enriching our lives
We couldn’t ask for more

He’s down a quart
Rubbing our legs
His emerald eyes
Begging for more

Without a word
Simba speaks
Pick me up and give me a hug
I’m down a quart and I didn’t chew the cord