Ken G. writes about his dog. They bring us such joy, don’t they?
Twilight
No longer padding softly,
grace not a part of her
early twilight,
she paces,
looks,
as if listening.
But to what?
Answering
to hand prompts
when she sees them,
hearing is something
she barely remembers.
The pacing is short-lived.
She tires easily,
sleeps most of the time.
Watching her dream,
there are some things
she does remember.
Always thirsty.
Always.
Medication does that, but
also thirsty for attention.
If her tail is any indication,
she still loves life.
And those ears.
When they perk, she could
melt any heart.
She wants to be a border collie.
And, she will be.
For a little while longer.
Off-prompt for NaPoWriMo 2017 on Day 21 of National for Month/Global Poetry Writing Month.
O at the Edges 
Such a fine tribute to man’s best friend! So rich and warm
LikeLiked by 3 people
Ken nailed it!
LikeLiked by 2 people
That he did!!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 2 people
so loving…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Indeed.
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Bob!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very welcome, Ken.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Want a wonderful tribute, loving never grows old and you have proof.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Dogs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your heart on four legs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, yes!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely. My own little dog is going gray, and tires more easily, but she reverts to puppyhood as soon as I mention the word “W A L K” 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s the same with Megan, but the walks are shorter and less frequent, these days.
LikeLiked by 1 person