Hound

Lying in the cool grass

underneath an old oak tree

The ghost of my old dog
head in lap , keeps me company. 

The clouds above are shifting
shapes changing in the breeze

One looks just like that old dog
trying to catch a butterfly or bee.

The gentle babbling of the brook
calls out another memory
The first time with a fish on hook
the old dog barking, eyes gazing hungrily. 

Deep in the boughs, high above
a squirrel scampers through the leaves
That old ghost dog jumps up growling
The little rascal in the branches
doesn't see or hear a thing. 

Watching as the sun sets
colors melting across the sky
The old ghost dog wags his tail
and starts to vanish
A smile appears upon my face
Tears of joy flow from my eyes. 

          04/28/2015