She was just a mutt, but smart as a whip, and a person couldn’t ask for more loyalty and love than she gave us.
If the Clock is Ticking
The old dog makes pitiful sounds
Sleeping there by my desk
Sometimes she sounds almost human
Whining as she sneaks toward the end
There’s a ringing in my ears
Not loud, but steady
Not that it bothers me
I just notice it at times like these
Times when the house is silent
And I’m alone with my thoughts
And the ringing
And the old dog
The ceiling fan moves the air
Ever so slightly… soundlessly
If the clock is ticking…
I can’t hear it
Copyright © 2012 C. Mashburn