I thought id share this one with you. I havent looked at it in years, but you can tell where I was when I wrote it. It was dec of 90, and I had just lost my daughter to cancer, and her yellow lab and I were having a conversation in the car;
THE STRENGTH TO BELIEVE
Is dead really
Dead?
I fear so
At times--
I feel nothing
External
As I reach
And paw
Desperately
Into the emptiness
Beside me--
All alone--
I feel
Outerspace
Crowding
The once
Warm and peaceful
Space within.
I hunger for
A meal--
Just one
More would do--
Of knowing,
Of believing,
Of entertaining
The words
I am too weak
to utter--
The dog
The oh so golden one
Keeps asking---
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..youse Always got folkes watchin over you..that lab was there for a ''reason''..