Last night I woke
Because he barked.
That rich, deep-throated voice
That spoke,
Not so much of danger
But acknowledgement
That some stray hoof or paw or breeze
Had trespassed on his space
And must take care.
And yesterday I heard his tread upon the
stair,
And turned with greeting on my face
To meet that gentle giant's gaze.
He was not there.
Nor at the door,seeking to go out.
Nor at my feet,
Contented just to be.
For he is gone
Apart.
Away.
As swiftly as a lark in flight.
An empty space.
A toy, untouched.
A bowl, no longer used.
A presence from my life
Departed.
Yet waiting at some distant door
Or standing on that higher hill,
That great and giving heart
Beats strong within his chest.
And patient, proud and tall
He watches, waits and guards
Until my form he sees again,
And bounds to me in joy!
© 2003 Jane Walsh Foster