|Barked: Mon May 16, '05 6:15pm PST |
I didn't like to call you "just" a dog.
You were my friend.
We went to the beach one day.
I watched while you swam in the water,
while you were resting in a bed of bright-yellow wildflowers,
I thought, "How beautiful you are."
When we returned home, you ran out into the field
to lie down in the golden grassland.
You didn't raise your head when I called your name.
I ran to you, your eyes were opened,
but not watching for me ever again.
You were still beautiful, even in death.
Willow - August 1998
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