and my dress, though still bright
is crumpled at the height
of your little hands always
tugging as your fall behind
or see another in the interminable
fascinating rounds of dogs
that walk sedately on
their ribbon leashes.
If only I had a ribbon to spare!
and yet why not for the smiles and nods
along the boulevards
are no longer for me
given instead by the young hungry women
to you- the little darling
and how they turn discontented
to their beribboned pets
and attempted to solace their empty
left hands with the weight of the ribbons.
Fools.
It has been a long day
of up and down and her hungry
and thirsty and wanting to go home.
I want nothing less but so it is.
An evening of milk and firelight
and ten tellings of the Little Bears.
Oh but I used to dance in the candlelight
and be easy and free
carrying my little dog on a ribbon-
but look she has caught hold of my sash
again
and it feels like I am on the leash.
Come dear we'll go home
It's time for dinner and bed.
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