Loss and Loess by Peter Gidlund

All the new thinking is about loss
Erosion, the banks and the loess.
It is the denominator of the lowest.
Asking out a girl, rejected by the lass.
A loss in my mind, sleeping through class.
A paper in a hot car, about to curl,
milk in the sun, about to curdle.
Eating too much pie, about to hurl.
Falling on your face, as you attempt to hurdle.
Having your favorite pet you
notice in your store.
An abnormally large hampster,
that you named Chuck, and loved,
but it had to escape the cage.
At an age where it is impossible
to see anything other than that fact.
I knew how to act, but I couldn't see the back.
I ran through the day like a fiery mare.
Hoofing upon the impressionable sod.

Drew, on a strength I didn't
have before finding new life to
fill the spot of the hampster, a puppy.
A lively young buck, that likes to prance and squeal.
About to steal the corn, but it is too late.
The new puppy keeping us safe, never leaving my side.
For what is loss, but just a vacancy,
in the hotel of my heart.