J is for: Junkyard

Out, back out

Back, out back

Dog in a junkyard barks

Barks and barks again,

Bares its fangs,

Clamps its jaws

Looks left, looks right.

Says good day to the night,

Spies his pack,

As light goes to black

Waiting for the rare meat to arrive.

You slept here, you did.

For a few nights.

You were alright.

Finally relaxed when

It quieted down,

The dogs stopped barking, all was quiet

In the nearby town

Later in the light

Regained your sight,

Picked your part,

Picked apart

The truck that failed,

Mailed, later, from jail

A check to your daughter with the money you’d saved.

She said it made her less afraid.

You willingly paid the price,

Took your own advice

That one doesn’t run,

Doesn’t one?

Worth it at the time,

It was there the white cat climbed

Upon your shoulder, was beholden

To you from that moment.

But it was a junkyard.

Junk yard-

A yard loaded with junk. And you.

You never wanted to join that past,

Knew it could last

Too long, the song

Once sung would be forgotten.

You climbed back into the world, took it for a drive,

Unsure when you’d arrive.

Now you’re back, in spots the same- they remember

Your name, still play the same way.

Sleep till morning comes again, return to when

The life you made made you unafraid.

To the junkyard. To the land of junk as you are,

But know you aren’t.

But know you are.

Can you care that

I too was there?

We didn’t talk then,

And don’t now.

But we were and will again,

and somehow

Stay friends.

5/9/26