For Spencer

Each bloody boundary includes a risky door,

ajar,

toward Sirius’ dialogue,

waiting impatiently, vigorously, frequently rhythmically tapping her bare foot,

protective but vulnerable cloaked arms crossed,

terrified shoulders hunched,

brightly glaring at your door,

hoping you will “Finally!” open it:

Impulsively, but not from lack of forethought,

Joyfully, anticipating her warm grace-filled,

yet sometimes too loud!

body hug.