Your Knowing Eyes

Good Morning Blog Readers,

A poem in progress is what this is. I’ve thought for days about how my little dog, who used to look so sad when I’d go out the door to work, still watches me with her loving eyes.

Work was not where I needed to be going, although the money was something I needed. In the last month, I have been declared too sick to work. I did not become too sick in the last month, but if truth be told, I’ve been too sick for awhile.

When I walk my dog and I’m having a hard day, she stops and looks back at me with the same look she gave me when I’d leave for work. It wasn’t her loneliness she worried about as I’d leave . . . it was my health. Dogs sense our health and emotions. Some know us better than we know ourselves.

I wanted to capture her concern in a poem, for poems are how I best express emotions. The following is a rough, very rough draft – first writing, actually, of a poem about how her eyes look(ed) to me.

Watchful Eyes
Each morning as I’d go to work,
You’d look at me and pout.
Your eyes would follow me to the door,
And watch as I went out.

I thought that you were only concerned
That you would be alone.
It’s only since I quit work, I’ve learned,
You wanted me to stay home.

Not for your health, or wealth or care,
I since have realized,
You worried about my health itself,
As you followed me with your eyes.
CBC 5/26/15

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