Dogs 2007


is not a war
can be won
but this enemy
is always
the victor

rocks and gravel
sand and dust
mold and mildew
rot and rust

every day
something else
stops working
and that
which still functions
does so
in diminishing
causing pain
and lament

and putrefy
we waste away
we die

the sun comes up
but we rise
more slowly
each day
and as it sets
we mourn the loss
of the warming light
that will not
be as bright
even if many
more mornings
are granted us

our only way down
in spiraling descent
until all is brown
our energy spent

we trudge through
endless valleys of routine
for an occasional glimpse
of the high ground
if the clouds deem to part
but where we once climbed
now only our failing eyes
make the journey
and smiles suffice
in remembrance
of altitude

still we have moments
stellar and sublime
to remind us of life
from time to time

be still

they become fewer
lost in decay
fallen and broken
long gone away

you have
some dirt on
your shoulder

let me
brush it off
for you