OLD STORM poem

Old Storm

A friend for many years
to his master’s
beck and call

shuffles painfully across
backyard’s favourite spots
arthritis taking hold.

Fur once flowed in majesty
as the wind caroused
coat worn and thinning

can’t even keep up
to his soul mate Misty
during romps of sniffing.

Storm loves to view the moon
at night when coyotes call
and manages a woof or two

reminding them his watch
not yet complete.

© 2009 Richard L. Provencher