The Old Red Shed

There is an open field not far away, perhaps
it was once a fruit orchard, hard to tell now.

In the back corner of the field sits an old red shed,
abandoned and slowly crumbling apart, year by year.

Amos and I used to visit that field, always enjoying it
as it changed with the seasons — Spring to Summer,
Autumn to Winter — he especially liked the snow.

We would always meander over to sniff around
the old shed as it collapsed in extreme slow motion,
maybe catch sight of a group of deer standing
by the treeline, silently observing us.

When Amos was a younger dog in his prime
he’d give the deer a merry chase, but as he aged
he just wandered on, minding his own business.

Someone eventually fenced off the entrance
to the field, and anyway Amos had grown
too old to go walking that far anymore.

Both of us had become like the old red shed
as we gradually crumbled apart, year by year.

The day Amos died, Mazie told me she saw him
running free, as happy as any dog could be.

Of all my memories of our times together,
I remember him running straight towards me
through the snow — it was a Christmas Day,
we were out walking over by the old red shed,
and he was as happy as any dog could be.



About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
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