by Courtney Shay

Created on: February 18, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Cindy

She sits in the tall grass
with her legs crossed in the weeds
and she reflects on her life

And her children.

She was once young
but now not so spry,
not so full of fire and sheer delight

Though she tries.

She can't understand changes.
She watched them grow
and leave her for busy lives.

That is her sorrow.

She spends her days swatting flies
watching cars drive by and pull up,
happy when a familiar body emerges.

She loves their fragrances.

She used to go with them on their long walks
She would lead the way bravely,
watch for them, wait for them.

She was their protector.

She smiles as best she can now
for her jaws of broken teeth
from years of chewing things too tough.

Her love shows no wear.

She has adopted them
They are as much hers
as she is theirs.

Kindness is not forgotten.

She turns to them when touched
not hearing them approach,
and wags her tail.

They made her fourteen years worthwhile.

Learn more about this author, Courtney Shay.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.