Looking Through the Glass Door

The sun has not shown for at least 5 days

An endless march of low gray clouds

Links the barren horizons

My old dog looks through the glass door

Labors to get up  tuns twice  and half falls back to the floor.

It is late Winter   she will not see the Spring.

Yet she is still defiant  rolling shamelessly in the last snow

Looking up with great anticipation

What’s next I think she wondered

The burden of this season

Is clearly mine to bear

As I look through the glass door

The conclusion is inescapable

Winter is a good time to move on my old friend

When all that is left are our footprints

Frozen in the ice

Which can speak only of the past.

 

c coleman