Ugo’s gone.
How long
will I remember those romps
across the grass, the leaps up and down
the steps onto the porch,
the way we would tease each other
from either side of every bush.
Then you or I, creeping, sneaking,
as if out of no where,
leaping up and on, with a swish
of tail, a nip, a knock, and the other is down;
then stand back and bark,
and bark and bark.
Ugo’s gone,
maybe to another world.
They pet me sadly, say
“Be happy, we are here for you;
Look! We are already negotiating
to get another dog.”
But I know, I know for sure,
there will never again be that puppy fun
we had before you went away.