I have to write 5 poems a week for the next 16 weeks for a class.
Needless to say, there is already a piggy poem. This one is written for
Pippin- he really was my stronghold when Martin Luther died.  


A Tribute


You are an overstuffed pig loaf.
Your eyes are a newly hatched penguin,
they catch me. 
Your ears are badly stitched flaps of deer skin. 
Your nose is too pointed, a bunny nose.
Your feet belong in hobbitton,
Your lips mock me with their constant smirks.
You sleep like a dying horse. 
You turn my over-sized night shirt into a cavern.
You don't say as much as you used to.
Sometimes I think its because you miss him
as much as I do, but it might be that you've
said all you need to say, and you're just 
waiting for something meaningful to come to mind.
You kept my sanity after we buried him. 
I spread blankets on the floor and we slept there 
for three days, you pressed against my belly. 

LG, Pippin and Frida








