A friend shared this with me today... Ive changed my ways a little I cannot now run with you in the evenings along the shore, Except in a kind of dream, and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there. So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door Where I used to scratch to go out or in, and youd soon open. Leave on the kitchen floor the marks of my drinking-pan. I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do on the warm stone, Nor at the foot of your bed. No, all the night through I lie alone. But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet Outside your window where firelight so often plays. And where you sit to read--and I fear often grieving for me-- Every night your lamplight lies on my place. You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard to think of you ever dying. A little dog would get tired, living so long. I hope than when you are lying under the ground like me your lives will appear as good and joyful as mine. No, dear, thats too much hope: you are not so well cared for as I have been. And never have known the passionate undivided fidelities that I knew. Your mind is perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . . But to me you were true. You were never master, but friend. I was your friend. I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures to the end and far past the end. If this is my end, I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 21:20:56 +0000
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