ON THE ONE HUNDREDTH AND FOURTY-THIRD DAY OF THE YEAR

A gloomy day, breeze

travelling the lane as we

walk, slowly, your tail

held up but lonely

after a decade walking

these paths with another

tail wagging happily,

confidently, beside

your hesitation. Thus

we end up in the evening

of our lives, waiting

for the rain to come.

25.05.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse