Sifting through who I thought I was,

seeking something still unbroken.

Some kind of sign, or indication

that there is still a person

inside,

underneath

all this wreckage.

Buildings fall,

Earth quakes,

atom bombs.

Such as it is,

I can’t find anything.

Send in the dogs.

 

Out of my mind.

Out of my depth.

Out into the world,

shaking with every breath.

Weaving my way,

through the forest,

seeking the mountain top.

Stop.

I think I’m lost.

Did I come this way?

Do I know this spot?

Walking in circles,

lost in the fog,

and the fray.

Send in the dogs.

 

Eyes dim,

and breathing slows.

Who knows

where we go.

After this world,

are we on to the next one?

One the edge,

and I’m afraid.

So much to say,

so much left undone.

Then, I feel

beneath my hand,

the warm, furry coat

of a friend

and I’m no longer scared

to go back home.

Send in the dogs.

 

In this life,

we get lost,

we get sick,

we fall off,

but there is always

someone searching for us.

Send in the dogs.

 

HG – 2020