Black dog and the green grass
Black dog stretched out smoothly on the bright green spiky grass
Partly snoozing in the bright, warm sun
Accepting whatever may come to pass
Too warm to move, too old to run
The black dog watches me with one eye open
The black dog waits
I am haunted by something unspoken
A deep-rooted fear that will not abate
Too hot now, she staggers inside and slumps upon the cool tiled floor
Panting and sighing gently
Appearing more restful than before
The tiles are helping, evidently
And then again, outside she goes
And bathes again in the sun’s fading rays
And then again, the dog she knows
To make the most of her remaining days