Gentle Reader,
Gentle Reader,
Forgive me for my lapses this month,
but I have lost my dearest Editor,
and the dog cannot read.
I am grateful she understands
a few spoken words, such as “cookie” and “outside,”
her hearing being most excellent.
But, as her muzzle has greyed,
her eyes have gone milky:
she is wont to bark at the neighbor’s new mailbox.
It is no small comfort
that she curves herself against my back in sleep
and sits in a chair next to me as I write.
That she follows me from room to room–
when I myself have forgotten why I went–
perhaps illustrates my unedited situation:
how we meander through rooms,
my furry shadow and I,
as if looking for someone to give us purpose.
8 thoughts on "Gentle Reader,"
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I do love this heartbreak of a poem on so many levels.
Beautiful.
I love the idea of an “unedited situation.”
Love: That she follows me from room to room–
when I myself have forgotten why I went–
perhaps illustrates my unedited situation:
touching, heartwarming and saddening all in one. love this, thank you for sharing
Powerful poem, all the way to its end.
So much great stuff here, but this image:
“But, as her muzzle has greyed,
her eyes have gone milky:”
Made me stop and remember all my dogs gone by, and tear up. Wonderful writing.
Thank you all! I’m still trying to figure out who that speaker is.