I wish my dog was here.
Trees shift into spring,
and the water in the reflecting pool
ripples in waves
and then stills as the wind
stops blowing.
The grass is cool under my body.
Hay bales sit in the field,
with mountains, those
beautiful Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains,
as their backdrop.
My dog would love it here.
He would undoubtedly
jump into the reflecting pool,
startling the tadpoles and frogs into flight.
He would be muddy as hell,
and the car ride home
would be miserable,
but I wish he was here.
We could run through the fields of gold,
beneath the trees,
calling out wordlessly to one another
until all of our energy left us
and we collapsed together in a heap,
staring up at the mountains
that were always watching us,
judging us in our play and our fun
as we ran and loved together.
Perhaps one day
I will bring him here
and all my fantasies
will become reality.
For now,
as I lay on leaves of grass,
I wish my dog were here.
The days are growing longer
and we would have
all the time in the world
to be together,
to explore,
to live.
This place would be like magic.
Daylight would never fade
and we would never die.
We would be together forever in this place,
watched over by those
beautiful Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains,
and this place would be our home.
We would sleep outside when we were tired,
lounging beneath the sun,
and live off the land,
hunting deer and rabbits with
homemade bows and snares.
We would have campfires
and treehouses and whatever else
we could possibly imagine.
But most importantly,
we would be together
until the end of time itself.