Writers’ Weir: We sent love poems to our neighbors but forgot Ammo

Published 9:00 am Wednesday, November 9, 2016

We fell in love

with neighbors,

Shawn

Nikki

Jackson

Bacon

Ammo.

Through tears

we wrote love

drew love

said love

as best we could

to friends

across the street

but we forgot Ammo.

Lucky us

they still hung

our poems

and drawings

magnetic

to their fridge.

Their care happened.

Through Italian food

Franzoni,

shucked crab

big bags,

through Flash Mob

choreo,

through plumbing

miracles and no need

to walk on water,

through daily

driveway humor,

old car consultations

and high reaching

paint arms

on outside trim boards.

And did I tell you

they run a small business of

kindness and care?

But Ammo Franzoni, poodle sister

to Bacon Bass Franzoni,

how could we forget?

Ammo’s legs and lungs

sail miles each day.

She’s so flung.

Some giant

southeast wind

slings her curls.

Ammo, tiny fit bit,

disarms all arms

and warms laps

waiting.

Ammo like bullet

fast small.

Not painful.

Arrow sweet

straight to

hearts in hood.

Alas and woe

they moved.

“No, No, No.”

Left Juneau.

Reside now

holy cow

Valley Mendenhall.

Might as well be

Bering Sea

Isle St. Paul.

Sad story.

Hard to be glad

for that darn valley.

We try

but cry.

By Lin Davis and Mo Longworth. Juneau Dogs and Poets United for Neighborhood Love.