Two days I lay beside the track where roaring monsters passed,
Their wheels like thunder through my chest, but still I held on fast.
I did not chase, I did not bark, I only watched and yearned,
For you, who placed me on that verge, and never once returned.
A stranger came with gentle hand and voice like morning dew,
She knelt and spoke of food and fire, but I was waiting you.
She tried to lead, I shrank away; I snapped, I shook, I cried,
I didn’t know her kindness yet, I only knew you lied.
She brought me where the silence lives, where fear begins to cease,
Where warmth replaced the sleepless cold and kindness brought me peace.
And though I wailed and searched the door, and sickness wracked my frame,
She wrapped me in a stranger’s care, and softly spoke my name.
Not yours, of course, it wasn’t right, though still I try to hear
The way you used to call me home, with laughter in your cheer.
She says I’m “her dog now”, and though I twitch and flinch,
Last night my tail betrayed my grief and wagged a single inch.
She hums a tune I do not know and calls it “just a song,”
She speaks of walks and summer skies, as though I might belong.
Her hands don’t shake, her eyes don’t turn, she waits when I grow still,
She’s patient with my haunted dreams and every trembling will.
And though I ache to see your face, to learn it was not true,
The days have softened into light, and I have walked a few.
If you should seek me now, I’ll come, though not the same as then,
I’ve learned that hearts may crack with loss, and still can love again.
(By John Shenton)