A homeless boy and a dead dog

Thinking about a homeless boy and a dead dog

Far-fall soft
leaves of autumn
tipping winter's balance

All too soon
it is weighted
thick fogs, rain and chill'
Tilting scales
so that no remedy
yet
can tip it back.
That will come with time
and time alone.

On such a day as this
the dog died.
She, too, tipped far
into an abyss
from which
she could not even stand
to escape from.
And so, I dragged
her heavy body
(she was not lifeless
even, though dead,
her body
carried so much of
my life
that she will never be
lifeless.
Still through the hawthorn
blows the cold wind)

Now today
plenty of tipping
and there is
an invincible boy
who thinks he is fine,
yet sinking fast.
out in the cold and wet
two girls
giggling at the adventure
do not begin to realise
what danger
winter is

Here, amidst all is beauty
winter threatens.
Lest we forget
your tyranny
-- there was a dead dog
let there not be a boy

June 19   2012