Old Dog, Good Dog

I lay listening to the sound
of my old dog
dreaming in the corner of our room.

Old Dog.
Good Dog.

I wish you giant dreams
of fields and mud
and sticks and streams.

I wish you giant dreams
where you can run and chase and swim
and leave behind your tired limbs
and feel your youth again.

Old Dog.
Good Dog.
I wish you giant dreams.

Your cloudy white and whiskered eyes
open for me just a crack
to say-

Old Girl.
My Good Girl.
I wish you sweet dreams back.