everything he's been waiting for

everything he's been waiting for

the puppy, wanting the nuzzle

of the love coming from

the leavened and whiskered

muzzle of his mother, nudges

again and again toward 

the drip of milk his litter

mates kick and scratch and lift

him from.  the one 

festering, level-with-his-jaw-

and along his neck, puncture

wound after the true 

air-is-new, out-of-the-womb

and to keep free of the hush

dug tombs, the boy comes empty

but for his forefront coverage:

the mud from the puddles 

coming up like geysers, the rush

to the runt and the cuddle to 

the stew of his chest-sweat

and wool: the rump

stuffed into the ripped designer

pocket the brand Levi

stuck to the fold like a collar

like a name, now that he's saved,

everything he's been waiting for.