We use to walk together…in the mountains…by the sea
before the sun would rise each day…my golden retriever…and me
We chose to name him Whitman…people assumed we loved poetry
and though we do love a good rhyme…he was named after a bakery.
He was soft and warm and beautiful inside…to us he was a dream
Is it any wonder we chose to name him after a donut filled with cream?
When we would take our walks in the early morning breeze
I would look up at the stars in the sky while Whitman sniffed grass and trees.
My view from atop my two legs was different than what he saw on four
and I never could determine which one of us enjoyed it more.
It’s been many years now since those walks we had to abort
because as any pet owner knows a dogs life is too short
Still today as I began my walk in the cool, crisp morning air
I know this is not possible but I saw Whitman standing there.
He was young…the way he once was…without a leash and free
and before I knew it I could feel him…walking next to me.
I’m not sure I ever enjoyed a walk more than in today’s early morning breeze
I noticed how the moon was full while Whitman sniffed grass and trees.
When we got home I wanted to thank him as we walked across our lawn
but when I looked down to tell him…I was alone…Whitman was gone.
I was left with a smile and a memory and the lesson he taught me today….
How those we love, even when they’re gone, are never far away