A round-bottomed toy that rights itself when
one attempts to push it over.
– Wikipedia

My dental hygienist
looks and sighs.
My son takes my car
to the car-wash.

Again I dream
I forgot my dog
in a locked garage.
Don’t you too

get swamped by
one guiltwave
after another,
don’t we struggle

to keep the
straight when
the car wants to veer,
don’t we ache

for love? At dusk
the pink dogwood
hugs me from
across the street.

The photo I bought
in Montreal: a bearded
elder on a snowy
street, proudly

displaying
the fish he carries
in a plastic bag,
dinner.

May I join you?
I’ll bring the wine.

– Steve Nickman