From my kitchen window

August 02, 2017  •  6 Comments

How many times have I watched you go by,

From my kitchen window?

A man and his dog,

Out for a walk,

A common vignette,

A daily ritual,

Multiplied over the years.

Some days, he’d prance beside you,

Whirling in excitement,

Pulling on his lead,

A blur of rust and black and white.

How does something that big


In the winter,

You’d stop and pinch off the balls of frozen snow

That clung to the pads of his paws.

In the summer,

You’d take him down to the point,

And let him gambol in the lake.

For a big, furry beast,

He was a passionate swimmer.

If dogs could smile,

He did.

I watched you go by

This morning, from my kitchen window.

He limped along slowly, tiredly,

And you slowed your pace,

And seemed every bit as broken.

Tears welled in my eyes

As I understood

This was the last time

I’d watch you go by

From my kitchen window.


This is so gorgeous. It brought me to tears.
Beautifully written I say with tears welling in my eyes. We're been on that walk or seen that stagger, that limp too many times. xox
Both the poem and the painting are just beautiful. What a tribute.
So beautiful, Paula. Your words brought tears to my eyes.
Beautiful image and so poignant. ❤️
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