Puppies.
And there we were,
into the woods,
the brook,
the meadow,
our hearts overflowing into the open wild,
together,
in search of nothing more,
than what we could discover,
together.
Then,
I let them go,
to other hands and hearts,
as life does,
they went that way,
I went another.
In stories and visits,
I saw them thriving:
eight years of glory.
Two phone calls,
within months of each other,
genetic balls of cells,
carrying them both away.
Buried now,
near each other.
Those of us who loved them,
thoroughly,
in deep,
gifted in that loving.
I see them still:
puppies,
into the woods,
the brook,
the meadow,
and someday,
I will follow.
Hugo and Sassafras
aneverydaypoet60 