Not needing her leash
She was nevertheless tied
To me in her own way
Till her dying day.
She was always whichever
Way I looked or stepped
Or walked, however long
And however far
Even on days as hot
As this. We would
Run to each tiny bit of shade
Along our mountain trail,
Our eyes red with the sun
Watching the passing time
Undulating like the sea,
She in her panting reality
And I shining in mine,
Even when she couldn’t hear or see
She would still run searching,
Exhausting herself until she found me
Again and again until she was done.
No comments:
Post a Comment