Mom wrote another poem for Sailor. She is still sad, but I am helping her be not so sad.
She says, "Zorba danced. I write."
Shadows
Only his shadow remains.
The shadow of a bark
Echoing in my ear
As the sun reaches toward twilight;
The shadow of a breeze
Swirling in my hand,
Cold nose on a warm
day;
The shadow of the grass
Rippling across the field
As my ghost dog runs by.
The splash in the water bowl,
The click of toenails,
The scent of wet fur -
Mere shadows all
But here,
Never gone.
Forever…
Shadows
