Wayne Orr

When first you bounded, dawn’s breath in your fur,
a whirlwind of paws, a heartbeat unbound,
you traced my steps with mischief and purr,
a symphony of barks, my world’s new sound.

Years wove your muzzle to frost’s gentle hue,
your leaps softened to steps by my worn chair.
Yet still, your gaze held skies of endless blue—
a lighthouse steady through storms of despair.

Then silence crept where panting once replied,
your bed a hollow where moonlight now grieves.
I trace the trails where our shadows once glide,
and find your ghost in autumn’s falling leaves.

But when the wind hums our old, secret tune,
I feel your nudge—a love no dusk can undo.