old dog and new

by underswansea


My dog knows me. She knows not to expect gentle. The cold is on the way. It will be snow covered before long. It is hard to say how to prepare. The bears hunker down. The cutthroat look for deep pools. The water will run out over ice. Willow will put on an extra coat. She will nudge me and tie my boot laces together when I’m sleeping. She didn’t know me when I could run the ridges. Still she has a sense of the past. And out of pity she lets me have my day.