He was always dancing, no matter the time
and a smile and bow to whoever walked by,
then a skip and a hop and a diddly bop –
a spin, a grin, then another bow.
I watched him once when no one was there –
He just looked at the ground and stared.
I always thought her strange – the lady down the street;
always with a polite wave if she noticed us passing.
One day on a walk, I stopped to talk –
she cheerfully beamed about her garden
and the beautiful day, but then she paused and said,
“Sorry, I must go and see my love …
who doesn’t know me anymore …
but I still know him”.
In the summer, a boy walked by every day,
tossing a ball into his glove
on the way to the park;
shortly after, he came back down the street,
his head a little lower.
I asked, “Aren’t you gonna play?”
“They already gotta game” was always his answer,
but one day he said, “Wanta play some catch?”
I knew right where my old glove was –
everyone needs a friend – even me.
Dave was a sad old coot, over in the corner,
barely glancing as I walked through the shelter.
I couldn’t leave without him,
so Dave came home with me that day.
My friends thought Dave was a strange name for a dog
but after four years they thought Dave
was a better name for a dog than a person,
so they all went with me when he had to go.
When everyone went home that night
the house was very empty.