A poem in which the girl and the dog job share as teachers

She is tipping with sleepy sickness, her fight curdling on the couch.

Him at her feet, not because this is now his manor, but his mirror too. He cues her dimming, a downward pose beyond my own. It’s the way he sniffs unrest (his freshly faded winter nose her favourite shade of pink) his pleat of eyebrows meeting where she strokes. I can’t check her forehead, I’m paw swatted away. Tucking her in is a fools chore, their call of the wild kicks reveal blanket shaped nests. They surrender calm to fever, frown hairs flatten until they breathe in step and once again I am schooled in how to let things rest.

Lisa’s poetry has been featured by The Mum Poem Press, the6ress, Poetry’s Dead anthology, Free Verse Revolution, An Aitiuil anthology and others. She came second in South Dublin libraries poetry competition 2022 and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize for her poem ‘Thrifting’. Lisa lives in Dublin, a mammy of three who inspire her love of capturing the everyday.Instagram: @lisaperks