A Life Condensed Down to a Scene

for Harold

You rose that morning

on legs refusing to stand

the weight they carried

for the fifteen odd years

of your hearty life.

Slumping to the floor,
looking up instead

of out, acutely aware

this was it

until the familiar knock

of an unfamiliar hand

brought you, my puppy man,

to all fours

one last time

to rush your front door

with all twenty pounds

of your remaining might

to give the delivery man

his last fright before you

stiffly sauntered over

to your bed and collapsed,

exhausted by the effort

of a life well done.