Gwynyvyr
06-01-2007, 01:41 AM
Spring
The old dog sits on the porch
Surveying the sunrise
Deciding (I suppose)
Where to doze and catch
The best of the suns warmth
It's his last Spring.
Gray-muzzled and limping
He choses a spot
And stretches out
Warming his old legs
Drifting into dreams
Of meadow grass and rabbits.
He reminds me of my father
In that last Spring.
Gradually fading into
A memory of his self.
Sitting in the big chair
By the window
With the sunshine flooding in
His rail thin arms
Resting on the blanket.
His eyes closed
As he felt the warm rays.
I knew it was his last
That Spring.
As he struggled
To breathe,to talk, to walk.
He held on and watched
As I waited
For his grandson to be born
February melted into March
And he struggled on.
Fighting for breath
And life.
The doctors shook their heads
Predicting "any day"
But I knew.
Early March he held my son
And smiled
As new blue eyes
Looked up at him
And he gently stroked
My baby's hair.
"A good one"
He rasped and wheezed
Then handed the tiny one
Back to me
His arms too frail
To hold the precious burden long.
March gave way to April, then May
And the warm days
Erupted into green
And flowers
And calves on the hillside
Still my father sat
Watching out the window
As life began anew
And his drained away.
A last hospital visit
And I saw his struggle
As doctors inserted tubes
And needles
And my two sisters
Stood on the side
Like morbid cheerleaders
Stridently whispering "Hold on!"
While I shouted "Let go."
My fathers eyes
Were ice blue
And angrily desperate
As he tried to leave.
They brought in machines.
I blocked the door
And said the word:
"Enough"
My sisters turned
Seeing me for the first time.
The youngest one
The rebellious one
The determined one
And silently agreed.
Nodding their heads
Like willow trees
In a stiff breeze.
Tubes removed
My father smiled.
I held his hand and talked.
Remembering the tree house
And the train set
The times we had.
"You were a good dad"
I said out loud
And watched him close his eyes.
I smiled as he died.
Happy he could rest
His struggle done.
That was years ago
And now another Spring.
I watch the old dog
Laying on the neighbors porch
Knowing there will be no tubes
Or doctors or relatives.
No heroic measures
To make him stop his course.
His legs twitch as he dreams
Remembering younger days
And green meadows
And cats and rabbits
Waiting to be caught.
I watch and smile
Hoping he leaves
For distant fields
While he is in a dream
Passing gently
From Spring here
To eternal Spring there.
And hoping my father saw Spring sunlight
When he last closed his eyes, too.
The old dog sits on the porch
Surveying the sunrise
Deciding (I suppose)
Where to doze and catch
The best of the suns warmth
It's his last Spring.
Gray-muzzled and limping
He choses a spot
And stretches out
Warming his old legs
Drifting into dreams
Of meadow grass and rabbits.
He reminds me of my father
In that last Spring.
Gradually fading into
A memory of his self.
Sitting in the big chair
By the window
With the sunshine flooding in
His rail thin arms
Resting on the blanket.
His eyes closed
As he felt the warm rays.
I knew it was his last
That Spring.
As he struggled
To breathe,to talk, to walk.
He held on and watched
As I waited
For his grandson to be born
February melted into March
And he struggled on.
Fighting for breath
And life.
The doctors shook their heads
Predicting "any day"
But I knew.
Early March he held my son
And smiled
As new blue eyes
Looked up at him
And he gently stroked
My baby's hair.
"A good one"
He rasped and wheezed
Then handed the tiny one
Back to me
His arms too frail
To hold the precious burden long.
March gave way to April, then May
And the warm days
Erupted into green
And flowers
And calves on the hillside
Still my father sat
Watching out the window
As life began anew
And his drained away.
A last hospital visit
And I saw his struggle
As doctors inserted tubes
And needles
And my two sisters
Stood on the side
Like morbid cheerleaders
Stridently whispering "Hold on!"
While I shouted "Let go."
My fathers eyes
Were ice blue
And angrily desperate
As he tried to leave.
They brought in machines.
I blocked the door
And said the word:
"Enough"
My sisters turned
Seeing me for the first time.
The youngest one
The rebellious one
The determined one
And silently agreed.
Nodding their heads
Like willow trees
In a stiff breeze.
Tubes removed
My father smiled.
I held his hand and talked.
Remembering the tree house
And the train set
The times we had.
"You were a good dad"
I said out loud
And watched him close his eyes.
I smiled as he died.
Happy he could rest
His struggle done.
That was years ago
And now another Spring.
I watch the old dog
Laying on the neighbors porch
Knowing there will be no tubes
Or doctors or relatives.
No heroic measures
To make him stop his course.
His legs twitch as he dreams
Remembering younger days
And green meadows
And cats and rabbits
Waiting to be caught.
I watch and smile
Hoping he leaves
For distant fields
While he is in a dream
Passing gently
From Spring here
To eternal Spring there.
And hoping my father saw Spring sunlight
When he last closed his eyes, too.