Aubade

 

Early cloud-streaked sky painted pink,

and I remember waking to the weight

of your snout on the side of my bed

that morning.

I heard your urgent whuff, twice,

but didn't open my eyes

because you were gone.

But then I rose, and realized

it had been you, after all,

come to say goodbye at the very moment

they fed you into the flames.

Our hearts so fused, of course

you'd come. You never wanted

to leave.

Rivers of tears, a loss too deep for words,

that still remains, all these years later,

waking every morning to your absence -

you, who were such a huge presence,

you, with a spirit always
too big to kill. 

For Sumana's prompt at What's Going On  on Wednesday: Aubade: a morning love song, a feeling of love and loss. Of course it's Pup.