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Ottar Jul 2015
the dog she frolics like a lamb,
open mouth
smile ear to ear,
the dry grass pokes her pads,
her nose scents the air,

she chases me, there is joy,
in both our hearts,

grey blur glides by
my legs, without looking back,
her years have not slowed
her down, her ears pulled
back with her speed,

she chases me, fierce heart,
fire brand spirit sprinting,

she runs circles, does laps

she tucks her haunches under
and she silently thunders
by lightening fast,
pure joy despite her chaotic past,

oh in my dreams, she will live
forever, and despite what
some say spiritually,
the will in me says she will
wait for me on the far side
of the Rainbow Bridge

and we then run, her nose
leads the way, to play
and a day, to discover
freely
eternity.
My dog today. Old but not too old, yet.

— The End —