Gilead

The meadow is just as I remember
vibrant with the flavour of spring
among dandelions and butterflies
your fur is grey as a winter sea
tall and proud like the Giant’s Causeway

I know you remember in a different way
all smells and snuffles
as if recalling the scent of youth
while to me it’s all colour
flashes of wrestling in Dublin dirt
furious tail wagging, slobbering

You don’t run to me like you used to
so we hobble together
following each other’s lead
dog tired, dog hearted

We stop to rest at the cliffs
your panting is my heartbeat
broken only by waves lapping
against black rocks slick
with age

The view is our reward
we sit there
an old man and his hound
with naught but time
at our backs
and the sun on our faces

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