Old Dogs Edit 0.001 svan Edit1 wystan,milo

[milo]

We go to nose the evening rabbit; shadowed, but by scent alive.
She looks to me for height hence vision; I tilt the sun from ageing eyes
and please her with exciting gestures, hoping for a hopping prey.
An old dog, yes, but stiff with purpose, legs still run when bid “Away!”
to shoot through grass and fallow fields, to race the wind behind her tail.
Each chase is one less disappointment, one hope that joy will never fail.

The evening gust blows sound to ribbons, splits the spoor of every kind,
so coursing comes with sought for quarry; these days only brave and blind
will feel the just and gentle jaws, light holding but without remorse.
By accidental dental clench, she puzzles to observe life force
depart from what was once a plaything, destined to run fast and free,
but now hangs ragged, limp and broken, swollen-eyed by bites of flea.

No blessing that each death is sudden, merciful in tight-toothed screams;
for this old girl there are no virtues, save to serve her master’s dreams.
She has no thoughts of slow tomorrows, every day is moments summed.
But I, in sadness, saw ambition slowly fail once she succumbed
to hang-dog ways; too close to burrow or too far to make the run.
She looks to me and I smile on her… she and I get old as one.


edit 0.01
We go to nose the evening rabbit; shadowed, though by scent alive.
She looks to me for height and vision, I tilt the sun from ageing eyes
and please her with excited gestures, hoping for a hopping prey.
An old dog, yes, but stiff with purpose, joints still slide when bid “Away!”
to shoot through grass and fallow fields, to race the wind behind her tail.
Each chase is one less disappointment, one hope that joy will never fail.

The evening gust blows sound to ribbons, splits the spoor of every kind,
so coursing comes with sought for quarry, but these days only brave and blind
will feel the just and gentle jaws, light holding but without remorse.
By accidental dental clench, she puzzles to observe life force
depart from what was once a plaything, destined to run fast and free,
but now hangs ragged, limp and broken, swollen-eyed by bites of flea.

No matter that each death is sudden, merciful in tight-toothed screams;
for this old girl there are no virtues, only to serve her master’s dreams.
She has no thoughts of slow tomorrows, the day is all her moments summed,
but I, in sadness, saw ambition slowly fail once she succumbed
to hang-dog ways; too close to burrow or too far to make the run
she looks to me and I smile on her…and she and I get old as one.

Tectak
July 2013

Aaaaawwwwww

Extra foot on S1L6.

also "bites of flea"?

Hi milo,
chopped my foot off....thanks.
But what of "bites of flea". It WAS bite of flea but I got abused into bites

they are flea bites, bites of flea sounds rediculous. You know this already.