My New Year’s Love and Me

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A Prose Poem

Jernee Timid, my wild-haired little monster. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

My wild-haired love sits comfortably in our space. I stare at her — globes for eyes, a song for a heart . . . she gifts me life. I haven’t had to search for a love stronger than hers in thirteen years — a milestone.

No one can compete. No one can compare.

She is a constant reminder of all things good in this world, and I breathe fresher air when she is near.

The new year tiptoes into sight, carrying unknowns along beaten paths. I will bask in the peace that is the comfort of a lap dog’s patterned pants.

I am safe. I am free.

With family struck ill by an overgrown virus, my stomach is double-knotted as worry sinks itself into my veins. I am prayerful. I am hopeful. They will all survive.

But if death comes knocking again, I’ll plead with him to leave the babies alone. I may get my wish. I may not. But at least I’d state my case. At least he’ll know how I feel about his existence.

A day off from work to spend wisely with a four-legged gem who doesn’t need me to be anything more than I am is a present daring to be opened daily. I unwrap it knowing underneath its covering is and forever will be happiness . . .

And love.

And a look of captivation and admiration from an animal who doesn’t speak my language but understands everything I say.

*It is my hope and prayer each of you will be safe and connected in some way to family and love as you usher in a new year. May it be a happy and prosperous one. Peace and blessings.

Originally published in soliloque via Medium.

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