Theme: Aging

An Elderly Dog

The sun is coming down hard, the dog sleeps in the shadow
on the terrace. I sit indoors and try to play the mandolin.
Sweaty palms, no good. The dog comes to the doorway,
barks. I put the mandolin on a chair, dog goes back to sleep. 
The winter had been long, I had looked forward to summer,
but this was too much. We, the dog and I, used to go to
the beach, but dogs aren’t allowed there anymore and
I’m too f**king old. I pick up the mandolin, smash it against
the living room wall, a picture of me in uniform falls down,
broken glass everywhere. “Now, see what you have done.”
I shout to the dog, but the old cur doesn’t bat an eyelid.

29-Nov-2010

More By  :  Jan Oscar Hansen

Views: 1388     Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment Humour is the spice of life! This poem proves that!

T A Ramesh
26-Mar-2021 12:01 PM


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