When I reflect upon my life already done
and summon the illusions
to come forth from darkened memories hall.
I sit and watch the play transpire
as if the lines had never been uttered,
or the cast of characters unfamiliar to my sight.
As a youth I had a Dog named Lady.
We went everywhere together that boyhood friend and I.
Across the meadow I named for her we’d romp
or by the cool stream we’d rest.
Every boy should have a dog to remember as a man.
Often I’ve asked,
what has happened to the lad who ran freely across fields,
hiking trails or daydreaming out the classroom window?
Then with an unsure look into the mirror I see myself older, taller,
but housed within there’s a boy,
still running among the wild flowers of Lady’s Meadow
on a summers day.
