toy squeaks

toy squeaks

to the left of my desk chair
a rhythmic squeaking
my un-housetrained pup
is gnawing her starman—
soft and five-pointed
the fourth dog to work it
she discovered the squeaker
last night in her crate
smart girl

no starman at bedtime

my rhythm’s been broken
and quiet is shattered
I’ll write with distraction
until she matures—
but here is the upside
she’s a sweet cuddlebug
I’ll trade some months
of disorder
for a decade of affection

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

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