Black Dog
I sit here and watch you sleep
and memories of the years past play by,
How did we get this far
and why did it pass so fast?
It seems so boring to look at our lives as
others have looked at theirs, but
the old clichés run through my head anyway.
What is true is time has moved
and we have changed.
You and I are older;
both have our share of gray.
You sleep a lot now, which was something you'd never do.
I remember when you would hardly sit still,
bit your gait is slower and less sure than it once was.
What used to push you into a frenzied outburst
now only earns an occasional snarl.
Old friend, you age before my eyes
and nothing I can do will slow it.
You've always been there whenever I need you
, but now,
I can't stop the changes taking place in you.
Someday I'll reach for you at the foot of my bed;
you won't be there.
It somehow seems unfair that such good things
have to end so sadly.
What will I do?
Who will understand?
I'll never forget those intense brown eyes
that speak in a language of their own.
We do talk with each other, don't we?
Just give me a moment for this melancholy to pass.
We'll go for a walk and laugh at the day.
Oh my, my old black dog,
I can never say goodbye.
Barbara Gould
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