for Bob

This poem needs a day off,
a night to itself with its thoughts
screaming hushed nothings
as it drifts off, god knows not where.

This poem needs a new coat
to wear against winter and words,
a map through snow squalls
that bleach meaning from vision.

This poem needs a cat
that won’t stay inside or out,
that lives on laps, or disappears
into darkness, depending on the day.

This poem has your eyes,
but cannot see where it’s going.
This poem needs you to tell it
what to do. This poem needs you.