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The sorrowing man and his dog

03.25.15

You may remember in my last post about my 7th grade poetry that I mentioned Emma had recently written another poem that I was going to ask her permission to share here. It definitely doesn’t belong in a post poking fun at my rhyming, revolutionary 7th grade attempts at poetry. This one deserves a place of it’s own.

A few weeks ago, we lost my uncle suddenly. After the funeral services, we all gathered at my grandfather’s farm for the evening to be together as friends and family came and went. Despite the heaviness of sadness in everyone’s hearts, there was still room for the grace of laughter and contentment and warmth of being together.

I came across this poem of Emma’s when she left her journal open on my desk that night. She told me that after she experienced this brief moment with her great grandfather that evening after the funeral, she knew she had to write this. She came home and this flowed out onto the pages of her journal.

This 13yo's poem about her grandfather is beautiful.

 

THE SORROWING MAN AND HIS DOG

 I looked down,
at his pondering eyes.
He knew what was going on.
Sadness hung in the air like fog,
blinding everyone.
And he knew.
He wagged his tail,
wanting to comfort
and be comforted.
He shook his furry head,
and glanced around at the sad faces.
But he turned back,
with his sad, knowing eyes
and rested his head on his Master’s knee.
“You keep me going Dog,
don’t you” came the the deep voice, full of pain,
from his master.
He looked up, with crying eyes,
into the sorrowing man’s face,
trying to understand, not realizing,
he already did.
I sat there, taking this in,
as I comforted the man and dog.
Finally, I realized the silent language they were speaking,
so I kissed the man’s tear-stained cheek,
and left the master and the dog,
to themselves.

-Emma

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