Shadows nose the driveway
in our friend’s headlights.
Thumper and Bambi,
big and small.

Blown in with the bora,
they traveled by starlight
over bone blue road,
free and startling.

He jumped the stone wall, pausing
atop to burst his black fringe mane.
Bambi made do, scuttled under the iron gate.

She’s a little beige clown.
She nuzzles her mouth into my hand fold.
The stains around her eyes are a black hole.
White light jiggles in her irises.
Hope burns in holy hollow lungs.
Heart patters companion.

They wag past the straddle of
grape vine work lines,
the last pomegranates of November.
They’re dark darts of cobbled town floor,
Istria whole province dominion
to panting friends of man.

My imagination’s kite flies with them,
Over the red earth, a minnowing shadow
large and far or small and close
under king constellation, canine nebula
hung in historical stars for the free friends
of humans.

Kathy Ireland Smith

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