Ever Returning

Memories come back often,
Of a dog that I called mine.
I see her in the shadows,
And hear her bark, and whine.

No tracks encircle round my door,
To listen for my stride.
No canine capers on my step,
For me to bid inside.

I never will forget her,
With her understanding eyes.
The way she had to greet me,
To me...she was a prize.

So often in the silence,
Comes the moisture of a tear.
For I miss the friendly prancing,
That I knew...when she was here.

But she has gone to heaven, now,
And I somehow...seem to lack.
The knowledge...that where she has gone,
She chases with the pack.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

Dedicated to the wise old girl, Zoey 2002 - 10/4/2011