Fur Certain
Fur Certain
an American mink cannot be positively
identified without seeing its skeleton,
but if it has no white patch on
its chin, it aint English.
i have touched the white on your black
chin like it was a power switch
that i could never turn off.
they warned me on you- said you came
from Eastern Kentucky. most of the stress
landed on the word East.
it used to be you could bring in five dollars
a pelt, you told me; now nobody is buying.
you released a coon had been trapped three
days in a cage to your father-and-son German
Shepherds, in broad daylight.
the dogs did not compete, they took turns,
working as a team, unconcerned with how
long, just like we did, before the weather
turned.
the undercoat is where you find the thickest
fur, and lush. it is the most practical part to
use for a coat.
we were warm the night you lay down
in your garage and cried because
i had given you a globe, so you could see
where you had been all your life.
my eyes were wet too. i laid on you
to keep warm. we made a pile,
working outwards, from belly
to torso.
6 thoughts on "Fur Certain"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
oh, sh!t, this is awesome af… i wish all love poems were this delicate and self-assure.
unless it’s a cannibal poem. then all bets is off.
ha, thanks so much, this made me happy af.
I love all the places this poem has been and the places it goes. Wonderfully vivid and intimate. Great piece.
thanks for the kind words.
This poem caught me, kept me and awed me.
so glad to hear it!