Showing Up
A dog will go anywhere
just because you asked—
even if the chairs wobble,
the food’s gone cold,
and the place smells wrong
he’ll follow you
through a puddled parking lot
and curl beneath the table
beside your boots,
accepting a napkin
like a medal
if you come up short
he offers patience,
his breath at your feet,
his tail sweeping gently
against the silence
thunder shakes his trust
fireworks send him
under the bed
even loyalty
has its breaking point
not everyone
loves like that
some nights
I go out
just to prove
I still can
a cat would ask
the name of the place
check the lighting
count the exits
read the silence
between the Yelp stars
she’d stay home
on the windowsill
watching birds
tail twitching
like an unlit fuse
she wouldn’t apologize
for solitude
it’s not love
that divides them—
it’s how comfort
is weighed
against belonging
the dog believes
love means going
the cat believes
love should come to her
already warm
maybe we live
in that tension
we all have nights
we wish we’d stayed in
and others
where joy arrived
because we said yes
that place
between the dog’s devotion
and the cat’s refusal
to pretend
.
Rick Christiansen is a former corporate executive, stand-up comedian, actor and director. His work can be found in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Stone Poetry Quarterly, The Rye Whiskey Review, As It Ought to Be Magazine, Trailer Park Quarterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, and many other publications and anthologies. His first full length poetry volume, Bone Fragments, was published last year by Spartan Press. His second collection, Not a Hero, was released in May of this year. He has been nominated for a Spirit Award and a Touchstone Award for his work. He is an advisory board member of The Writer’s Place and a member of The St. Louis Writers Guild. He lives in Missouri with his wife Kim and dog “B.”
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