A ghost is a being who left behind regrets
and unfinished business.
Or perhaps, like you, it did not want
to leave.
Or perhaps, like you, it did not want
to leave.
An owl once crossed my path, looking
deeply into my eyes, so close
I could see every feather outlined.
Spirit Messenger from the Otherworld.
In the morning fog, by the river,
your wolfy heart remembered
your wild puppy days with the pack
on the side of Lone Cone.
The wild cows of Opitsaht eat seaweed
during the long winters, and grow thin.
Sometimes a cowbird will settle
on a bony rump, for companionship.
When the veil grows thin between
your world and mine,
I listen for your howl.
~for Pup, as always
This is so very touching, Sherry. Your poems about Pup always touch my heart.
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, yes, surreal, so real. I love how the word howl has owl in it, "Spirit Messenger from the Otherworld." Dearest Pup.
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