Harry Calhoun’s poem Dear Little Thing appeared here in April 2014.
The Other Side of the Bed
By Harry Calhoun
The other side of the bed is empty
and the doges want to go outside.
At least my whole life is not a slat-sided
construct, empty but my love has gone
upstairs because of another pointless
argument. Maybe I just needed a shave
or a haircut or something to bring me
a fraction of an inch closer to what should
have been dialogue coming from that other
side of the bed last night. Instead the dogs
want to go outside and I might as well
go with them. Upstairs is the other side
of what belongs with me, what I love gone wrong
and I let the dogs out and walk up those 14 long stairs
with the love in my heart that has always been there
but finally woke up on the right side of the bed.
I relate to this all too well at the moment. Thank you for these beautiful words.
–NY