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at the end of any day they will always cradle me
better yet in a tirade they will yell louder
even throw large paper clips
and stomp their tiny feet
when I might cringe at such a thing
but they know they give me strength

and if ever I’m in love
you’d think they’d scoff me
but they do not
they polish themselves up to shining
and come with buckets of sweet smelling petals
they spread wide, volumes of like feelings
petting the beloved passages and pointing
they open chests of these silly furry things
they call them warm fuzzies
they take them with big grins on their faces
and dump them on my head

all the while skipping
all the while filling my quill to bursting
all the while laying down clean white parchment
nodding in that way that they do
you know, that “go ahead” nod
as if they already know what it is
I am about to write

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