Saturday Tide

The words are meaningless, the outlook tired

Harder, softer Need a cushion on the floor

Nose to nose with man’s best friend in mind

sniffing hairs and tidbits left behind

Down here its another world

(and we are free) draining cups of lukewarm coffee.

leaning on each other for support

We right ourselves in our rapport

And live to fight another day

Hurrah for us. Hurrah. Hurrah. Hurrah.

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