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.
Old.
She looks
sometimes
as if her days
are numbered.
But I can't.
I won't.
Let her go.
Not just yet.
Not ready yet.
Recognition.
Is bliss,
it doesn't happen
often,
but when it does
it sends a flicker
of hope
through my soul.
Please don't leave.
Please don't.
Please.
2 comments:
It is so hard when pets get old. *sigh*
*hugs*
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,
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