Remembering my son's dog. This dog was my son's who have now both passed and are joined within the clouds.

Standing beside her grave,
I am enveloped with soft thoughts
that drift back in memories
of her and my son,
running through fields
of prairie grasses and brush,
never tiring of the the chase.

Strong winds rip thorough hawthorn trees
and jiggle chimes hanging from taller branches.
I close my eyes to erase
that moment when I saw my old dog's pain
as death neared.

The scent of the nearby honeysuckle
brings me back to life.
I pull my hair from my face,
comforted that
she has joined
Joby, my son,
her childhood companion.

Standing alone in my garden,
I remember them both
and say a momentary good-bye,
until I come out here again
to say hello to them,
and I will once again be
comforted by the flowers in
bloom and the memories of the
chase.