A LAST DREAM

I wrote this when our dog Max passed away. We still miss him, and being silly humans we still talk to him. Being a sensible dog he never answers.

In the turbulence of suns
Burning into dust
The creature spun a web or two,
As spinning creatures must;
He weaved a magic web or two,
And the solar insects cussed.

In the fiery mayhem, burning,
Collapsing into grime
The creature waved his spinnerets
One more frantic time,
He waved his cruel spinnerets
In his spinning, weaving, prime.

In death he formed a spiral
Of fragrant, musty smoke,
He cast his fibres to the flames,
A webbed and threaded cloak,
And in his bed, and dreaming
Max never re-awoke,
He let us call him by his name
And never, barking, spoke.

Reviews

[3X3MPLER]

emotions well expressed ,great work

[Peter Rogerson]

Thanks for your input 3X3MPLER.

[Vatsal Rohilla (account..]

A good piece, Peter. You have used repetition well and have expressed your emotions, plunged in the memory of your dog, quite well. Good work.

[Peter Rogerson]

It's not always easy to project your emotions when they're still raw. Thanks for your review.