Dog

The Sun warms my face.
The Wind ruffles my fur.

The Day has begun,
and this is how things are.

The Ground flies past,
my fleet paws.
My eyes are looking near and far
The Day has begun,
and this is how things are.

My nose finds all the smells;
other dogs.
cats!
deer and an old leaking car.
The Day has begun,
and this is how things are.

There are people to greet,
with a wagging tail.
And things to chase.
And good food to eat.
and at the end of it all,
there is a sofa on which to sleep.

and this, is how things, are.

Weary To The Bone

Eyes burn like grit is in them

Dull pain through every limb 

and that ache in the back stabs again and again 

and again

The taste in the mouth

like stale coffee and ash

and your attention can wander

so might start to crash

Rage flares easily, sparked by any slight annoyance

but there is not much fight

the embers kicked over, through up some sparks, 

but the fire in your heart has little heat and even less light.

no joy

no smile

no thought

no fear

and all the while

It does not end

Weary to the Bone

you continue.