a tiny black wet
Schnoodle nose
nudges my arm as
marble-black eyes
covered with wild brows
peer up at me
from the camper seat
when I lift my arm
to raise my mug,
drink cold brew coffee
from my Halloween
Snoopy mug I truly
believe will make
the cool temperatures
arrive sooner ~
Fitz is slumped
against me,
seeking, too, all
the magic of
forthcoming fall
the changing
of seasons, gentle
wind blowing outside,
a tad early for the
acorns peppering the
camper’s roof but
all the rest of
the comfort of rituals
he knows as
reassuring trust
and belonging
in his forever family
Common Threads 