The Bulldog Returns From College

Face flush with cold, She comes, wind laughing at her back Across our threshold once more, In moments it is as though she'd never left. Every room brightens with her Prescence. She moves here and there in her easy ways, Dispelling discontents with artless word as drops of oil Disperse across a still lake She is fully unconscious of her gifts, So they radiate from her with undiminished power. Now, exhausted from relentless work and scholarship She lies asprawl on her old bed, Dear old cat cradled in one arm, Cooing softly in her sleep like a dove, Just as she did when small, Eternal yesterdays ago. What can I do with that, Save retire to my own room and glow?