My dog is the shade of summer
And travels inverse to the sun’s hot glow.
By day at rest, by moon a runner
Yet at my heels where’er I go.
He grows sharp for the days of autumn
His pace augments as warm days wane.
Will race these hills from top to bottom,
but returns when I call his name.
Beau bears the temperament of winter;
the days are dark and he is fair.
Though time slows, he remains a sprinter,
So I follow him despite cold air.
And finally, he smells like springtime
Of warm wet soil, and life freshly sprout
Out-of-doors in the rain or shine
He
reminds me what life, and love, are about.
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