the white dog

the brittle
boned dog, on
nervous legs, once
leaping
each fence
and blade of
grass with
quiet ease
and grace,
now stumbles
towards the light,
his eyes
opaque, a shade
of fish
blue, cloudy
with the sea
of his long
life. his death
will come with
tears, his decade
plus was
yours as well,
a part of you
feeling the needle
and slowing
of heart until
it beats
no more.