I know something is not quite right,
It’s eleven in the morning, the winter
Night hasn’t let go of it’s icy grip and
Dawn has been postponed. I talk to
My dog although she isn’t there, died
A week ago, but the smell of wet fur
Lingers, hair cling to my trousers leg
And her blanket on the kitchen floor
Is warm. Her eyes are following me
Around the flat, I’m reluctant to let
Her go and she’s reluctant to leave
Only a few days more, till the echo
Of her barks fade into a silent night
Where memories are sweet and I can
Say: Once upon a time I had a dog
Called Bambi, without being tearful.
You see, my grief is twofold, mother
Had brown eyes too and when I close
My eyes I can see hers, full of love
For an unworthy son. Once upon
A time. Yeah. OK so let me cry a little