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DISPOSITION
Sad)
when love
of a dog is it
in the end
in grips of old age
the licking of
the face by her
the solitary
affection rendered
(they by his
dastardly disposition
sent packing
many years before)
loneliness evaded
only by the company
of an equally old canine
(many years passed
without human touch.
I hope my comment is not
I hope my comment is not unwelcome, but I do believe this is the most poignant poem you have posted here. In a way, reading this poem was a hurtful experience, and that goes to its emotive power.
Starward in process of becoming J-Called
Thank you for your thoughtful comment,
.