Crusty Walls

Sunken Lane

Along paths of crusty walls 

and tangled brambles

Will time be soon left behind?

A path once of stones and dirt

Now displayed a row 

Of weeds, all now green and grown.

His footsteps had walked in mud,

Racing and laughing

Youth and friends hooting beside.

From his home, peat smoke once rose,

Fragrant over tall trees,

Brown bread baked on warm stone hearth.

Home now stones, long gone, hearth cold,

Gray rocks on his feet

Reminded him that green never leaves.

Nor will he.

Just images from my mind as summer fades makes me long for green.

C-D Post: Canine=Devotion, part 1

Life within the pack was good.  More than that, it was great.  And Porter with his pal Scrumpy knew that fact.

Food appeared from a magic bag and was poured into plastic bowls.  Water emerged from a shiny tube, and filled the metal bowls.  Not only that, their den was warm when the snow fell, and comfortable when the trees became green again. 

Food, water, warmth, a place to sleep, and all that a pack dog could hope for was provided by the Alpha male and his mate.

Porter could lie in the window upon a black leather sitting down thing and watch the birds soar over the river and trees.  Dozing, he would dream of chasing cats and rolling in mud. 

Scrumpy mainly enjoyed the food and the chew toys.  Porter told him what to do, so he did not have to think about anything.

Their greatest joys were walking with their Alpha companions. 

Racing ahead of the Alphas, barking at birds, and then urinating upon the spots marked by other packs were the highlights of the day.  The Alphas permitted them these joys, and they fully understood that. 

How could life be any better?  What could possibly change that fact?

This continues tomorrow, as Canines=Dogs moves forward to answer the above questions.