When you awake, oh the things we’ll see.
I’ll take you there.
Then, again, maybe it’s you who’ll take me.
We’ll take all that has been everyday, every year,
for the last fifteen.
The coming home from work and your happy tail,
the run to the park, your funny bark at a stray bee.
But, for now, my dear friend,
as I put you to sleep.
You’ve never complained.
Just wanted to be with imperfect me.
It’s not mostly sorrow now that I’ll keep
but something I’ll always appreciate.
I’ve been so blessed by a reliable grace.
Thank you for all that you’ve been
as I say goodnight now to your ever kind face.
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