Tuesday, September 20, 2016

April 26 - An Old Man Without a Dog

An Old Man Without a Dog

An old man without a dog
Walks down the hill toward home,
Just past the place along the road
Where he left the dog behind.

In the same way he left
Other companions,
A brother, a father, a son
A love already home waiting.

The ground gently falls away,
Beneath his feet, sloping down
Toward his journey’s end.
Without thought, he slows his pace.

Meandering now, his senses alive,
He drinks the nuances of smell,
Of light and color and movement,
Of leaves rustling, of birds chattering.

Life is precious down near the end,
Now that he finally sees where he is going.
His feet linger not wanting
To miss anything worth tasting.

He wanders steadily toward home,
Where he knows a comfort waits;
Waits with arms outstretched,
Listening for his footsteps.

© 2016 by Tom King

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