by R. Gerry Fabian
The spaniel and I
visit the hospice
on Tuesdays.
The man
with the distant eyes
refocuses
as the spaniel
places his long snout
and floppy ears
on the thin concave chest.
The spaniel moves
to the woman with no hair.
He sits by her bedside
and licks her hand
as she pats his head.
She repeats the refrain
“I should have had a dog.”
Now, he threads his way
through a variety of souls
with the wagging docked tail
in search of the man
with the box of Milk-Bones.
His bed is empty.
R. Gerry Fabian is a published writer and poet from Doylestown, PA. He has published five books of poetry: Parallels, Coming Out Of The Atlantic, Electronic Forecasts, Wildflower Women, and his poetry baseball book, Ball On The Mound.
Little Leaf Literary Journal 