I wonder at his tenacity.
Bulldog bone grip;
Thought dominating consciousness.
He's interesting to watch.
Cantaloupe mug of tea and furrowed brow,
Dark eyes boring into the opposite wall.
What does he ponder?
So quiet and still, if he weren't breathing,
I would think him dead.
Fiddling pencil and paper, I wait for him
Perhaps, this time, he will tell me--
What captures his interest so.
Seated beside him,
The patient pet,
I know it is not me.
