Just the two of us
High on that mountain.
Mostly the same age
His in dog, me in kid.  

He didn’t seem to know
He wasn’t like me, while l envied
His soft fur and rough tongue.
My first friend, always there.
He taught me to swim,
To drink the clear water
Only above the cow path,
And run home when Ma called.  

Daddy named him Pat
After a man who fought Germans.
I worried if Germans marched
Here, would Pat chase them off.  

Would I chase after him,
Would we find our way back,
Did they eat little kids,
Would they capture Pat?  

Was it a dream that scared him,
Did the scabs take in the night
Did he not hear me call
And call and cry?  

No Pat, only an echo answered
Me on this empty mountain.
Two is good even if his barks
Is all the words he talked to me.    

K. Bruce Florence
June 1, 2017