Friday, January 7, 2011

For my dog, Molly.

She sits
in the corner
head angled
towards the ground
as she tries to sleep.

A noise.
She peers up at the world,
a world that
she can barely hear.

She looks
as if her days
are numbered.

But I can't.
I won't.
Let her go.
Not just yet.
Not ready yet.

Is bliss,
it doesn't happen
but when it does
it sends a flicker
of hope
through my soul.

Please don't leave.
Please don't.


Melee said...

It is so hard when pets get old. *sigh*

Lilah said...

recently i began to wonder why people think of old age as something ugly
your post has reminded me of that
it's kind of beautiful in a way
we only recognise it as sad because we connect it to death
i like the fist and last paragraphs
they are so simple
pure emotion almost
with love,