This poem is for my late Jenny.


Winter is lonely buisness without a dog

Winter slipped in
Crept into the folds
Of my quilt
And tickled my toes
Till they curled shyly
Scrunching into hidden folds
I wanted to reach out
And rub her tummy
For warmth
And curl into the swathes
Of hidden crevices
Instead I found,
The side beyond
cold and wet
forbidding, dead.




Poetry by Su. G
Read 700 times
Written on 2006-11-08 at 13:10

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Zoya Zaidi
A very compassionate poem, marking the death of a dear pet dog!
Beautifully expressed!
Happy New Year!
(((Hugs)))
Love, Zoya
2007-01-02