Saturday, October 8, 2011

Best Friend

The sun hasn't risen all the way
As through the yard I walk and think
And listen to the early sound.
I hear the birds: the wrens and ravens
The dove, the quail and crow.
My best friend comes and paws at me.
What is it, Zeke? I scratch his ear,
He paws again. He seems to know
That something's wrong, I'm not alright
Not after such a restless night.
Or does he just want to be pet,
Or is he begging for a treat?
I ask him if this is the case,
He paws again, as I sit down.
He licks my face, and walks around,
Then rests his head upon my lap.
He looks at me, I have to smile.
He wags his tail.
I scratch his neck under the collar,
He woofs approval, but as the smile
dissipates, he stands back up
and rests his paw on to my arm.
What is it, Zeke? He talks again
Nudges my shoulder with his nose.
"Do you want to play? A treat?"
He rests his head back in my lap
And moans, it seems he really knows
That something's wrong, how does it show
for him to pick up on my mood?
He stands up, walks, then spins around
He sits again, he's sitting proud.
He barks and does not break the gaze,
He only smiles, and then he yawns.
He bows his head, and creeps back up.
So proud, but humble to his master
--No, to his best bud and his brother.
I smile at him, he rises up
A grinning face, he paws again.
It's nice to have this: such a friend.

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