Full of Ginger

Not a recent picture, but
she's kept her figure.

She's getting old, accustomed to the couch,
but needs the exercise, and when I offer,
off we go, and walk awhile until we're hot,
then find a pond to sit by in the shade.
I can see that she remembers other days,
when all she saw for miles, it seemed, was
grass to run through, roads to race her friend.
She stayed outside for hours back when running
fast was easy, when she was a farm dog
full of ginger. Full of life.

I'm getting older, I'll admit, and like to sit
myself at times, but plan to be around awhile,
so make myself get up and out, and move and stretch
and sweat, sometimes with Angel, sweet, old,
once-upon-a-time farm dog at my side. She watches me
as I sit and look out over the pond and drink in the
heat of sun and breeze, and sees that I remember, too,
those days I played outside for hours.
Running fast was easier.
I'm full of ginger, still.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015