i lock the pugs in their kennels and head for home
they will be happy when mom and dad let them out
in a few hours. . .
i stop at the brewery and say goodbye to jordan,
yelling over my shoulder, i love you, as i open the door to leave.
i plug in my phone and listen to a podcast as i drive towards home
back to him and the dog. . .
and think about pain and rebellion and
how maybe i need to just live. i think i get it now. . .
there is no such thing as finding balance and really living for me;
i can't have both. there will always be pain and struggles and
uncertainty, there will always be tears and frustration and doubts
but if i really live, there will also be fierce love to counteract the pain,
and laughter to balance the tears and sunsets and bird nests to notice
and dogs, i hope there are always dogs. . .