This is where I belong — I know it. — I arrange my books
Well-worn,
On dust-ridden shelves. Sunlight streams
Through obscured windows,
Hazy, distant light. Two cactus,
Teetering between life,
Gasp for water and air. The smell of coffee
And wet grass,
Lingers from morning rain. Paws lay quietly,
With puppy eyes,
As muzzle grays with age. Floors stained…