To her timid soul

The first thing that occurred to me this morning:

How beautiful the Wiegelia is right outside my bedroom window.

How the sun placed a ray right where the starlight had penetrated before through the fold of the batiked curtain.

How the Peacock has taken over rise-and-shine duties, crowing in his half scream half clearing throat way- since the coyotes ate the rooster.

How that scream jolts me out of bed, where as the cockle doodle doo seemed more soothing...

And finally the realization, today is the day. Black Dog gets to ride in her favorite spot, in the old Ford bed- she'll ride with glee, knowing she'll get a cheeseburger, knowing she's with someone she loves most. Not knowing hopefully, that this will be her last ride. My old friend needs me to do for her what is very difficult but most needed at this time. My old friend, a great dog who was adopted by us several years back- apparently the folks who had her did not appreciate a good dog. She was not treated well and did not trust for the longest time. Once she did...she's kind of been my right hand. My sunshine when it rained, my ever loving, ever constant companion, in the woods, out of the woods...just the sweetest girl you can ever imagine.

She hated storms and took such comfort in riding out the foul weather under my chair, (since I always found storms quite mesmerizing...)

Lightening streaks
across the furious sky
rattling the windows
and Black Dog,
holding close to me
so afraid
of booming
shutting her eyes
to it all
cowering under
my wobbly chair
silly dog-
believing I am
magical and strong,
able to hold
harsh weather at bay
together we are
joined under eaves
weathering storms-
To her timid soul
I reach out
gesturing comfort by
a glance of my hand
as the sky bellows
with thunderous laughter
shaking the clouds
dry.