With me as a poodle
and you being you,
we used to quiver
towards the oceans too blue.
We could almost, just almost, bear
the weight of the world together –
sole after sole, counting one and two,
stepping against the wind,
pushing through and through.
You grasped your stick
and we grasped the path,
quivering and shivering in the cold –
or was it just ‘cause we’re too old?
I was once so much younger than you
but I grew old and you grew older,
‘til Time became a mystery without a clue;