A Sheep, a Man and his Dog
By orangedream
Published: August 16, 2008
Updated: August 18, 2008

Your glass of wine stands untouched
so does mine.
Because you didnít come
the candle burned down,
wept wax on my best linen cloth.
It doesnít matter;
the only thing that does
is youíre not here.

Donít even mind the meal I cooked
was burnt
to a frazzle
or the hassle
to make a soufflť so it rose
to greet you
at half-past seven
the hour youíd customarily drop by.

A card would have been so very nice,
but Iíve still got last timeís
in the drawer somewhere.
Yes Ė here it is.
The one with the sheep,
a man and his dog.
Iíll pop it back down on the mantelpiece.

I guess thereís always next year,
thatís if Iím still here.
For a moment, I sensed your smile.
Could be I was mistaken;
another senior moment.
On second thoughts, Iíll have a sip
of that wine. Canít have it go to waste.
So hereís to you, my son.
Shall I pour you another?