For Me

Behind Fidel’s Nursery, in search
of my dog Bella, I pick and flick
burrs that pinch hairy legs.

I imagine her body
on the side of State Road 7,
a vulture’s Smorgasbord.

My search is fruitless,
so I head back, start to cry
tears that are not for her;
because she will show, I know,
in one beautiful piece
under the grapefruit tree in our backyard,

but for me, because I must return
to that house, to my stepson
with all his special needs.

When he was five, I believed
I could help him, believed
he would get better.

Now, he’s eleven, bigger,
Violent.

I became his mom willingly.
Now his kingdom will have no end.

Some days like today,
I want to be
the one who runs.

-lrfg