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Homage to my dog ​​Willa

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The trees fell on our old tamping ground.
I can’t see the light of the shadow your paw prints left …
Her eyelashes shimmered in a dusty light
against a furrowed forehead that winced with joy …
My eyes rested on your lingering soul as you cloud my heart …
The path is steep and rocks flow
at the edge of the water where your paws grew …
My mind is on silent memories pondering the fall moles that danced around and chased you in the twinkling twilight …
I keep quiet in my thoughts your beauty …
Curly locks gray with age …

The box is now neatly arranged on the shelf …
Rose on white and pure ….
It’s my last bait
To my lost and empty self …


The ash is blurring the curve of the path and unfortunately the mud you are so spiritually immersed in …
Cleaned and pure …
In my opinion…
And I cry …
Like I said my last goodbye …



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