Monochrome
Two sleeping dogs breathe
quietly in the passage
outside the bedroom door,
bedded there from
lights-out till dawn
unless restless stalking
to the back door
which may or may not be ajar.
Tomorrow, weıve
a funeral to attend,
not family but almost;
their loss darkens
the long night but we sleep.
The heatingıs off.
Should the temperature drop
more than usual,
here comes the pup
one easy leap
to boldly nestle
between man and wife.
Soon his warm weight
pushes me out,
our day begins.
Whatıs behind
the bedroom blind?
This morningıs not frosty,
itıs misty moisty,
dawn lags too.
This family,
we all slept in
mercifully,
even the old dog
with her dream
of early breakfast.
A biscuit for her,
gracefully taken,
one for pup, snatched;
the morning paper for me
and a slow cup of tea.
A funeral to attend,
not family, but almost.
A good man gone,
whoıd lived well.
This life as much as
'the other life'
held his faith.
And family.
Darkness waited for him
until he was ready.
Wednesday 8 August 2007
Max Richards
Doncaster, Victoria
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