to an empty house
But one constant this past
fourteen years was being greeted
by one who loved me
who was always happy to see me
and would let me know
if I were late.
Who would share my bed
and refuse to move
when I couldn't get my legs in.
Who'd let me know
if someone were outside
or might be
at 3 o'clock in the morning.
Who'd remind me that its time
to go out for a walk
and get my exercise.
When I really didn't want to
go out in the rain.
Who knew my moods
and understood me
and forgive me if I were sharp.
Who shared my food
and appreciated anything
I cooked.
That all ended yesterday
and now I come home
to an empty house
and I hate it.
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