You appeared on my dog’s blanket
A singular curiosity in the existence of a house pet
that has never met a late season grasshopper;
Short movements and your eyes tell me you live.

And yet, consciousness ebbs and
There is nothing you can do;
There is nothing I can do
But stay a moment until your time is come.

The sun looks in askance,
no longer hot enough to sway an appetite;
You alone among your kind
Have stayed for the shorter days and cold

Your eyes have lost their sparkle
But I know they are watching me
While Brahms plays a disconnect
From the drama of the moment.

But is it drama?
Or do you simply, in the wisdom of your kind
Understand the moment as the extinction of a flame,
An ebb of awareness before a deep sleep?

Farewell spirit and consciousness.

I shall look for you again in warmer times,
When your spirit and kind shall once again soar
Above the prairie racing before my footsteps
In the parade of living things.

(Aix en Provence, November 17, 2012)