Where's Happy, My Poodle? Poem by Andrew Lee

Where's Happy, my poodle that leaps, rolls and sleeps

near my feet for eight years.

She's gone. And eight years feel like a long out-breath

that drains away and goes quiet, for a total of ten seconds.

But the lizard that shares food with my poodle

rushes around my toes. Is it the same lizard?

Are the energetic fingers that cuddle the ears of my poodle

the same fingers that I'm staring at now, which seem wrinkled

yet unable to let go, and they even start to talk.