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I Am A Dog, Not Lost
by Henry P. Gaewsky
I am a dog, not lost.
You left me this morning high on a hill,
Chasing a ball far into the still.
I heard the engine rumble, I knew its song,
Any hurrying back, found you gone.
I am a dog, not lost.
The clocking hours now meet noon,
Sure I thought, You'd be there soon.
Cars and cars went on, sped by,
None like yours and wondered why.
I am a dog, not lost.
Was it because I barked too soon,
Growled at people who didn't like you.
Should I have been meek and cringing, not proud.
A kind of being, shuffled in the crowd.
I am a dog, not lost.
Many come in twos and fours,
Snarling, flinching, slinking roars.
Were they left as I, or did they stray,
What are their thoughts this time of day.
I am a dog, not lost.
Food left by, lies in the sand,
You taught me, eat but from your hand.
Children come by and hug me good,
Whispering they'd take me if they could.
I am a dog, not lost.
Weeks of days and months of nights,
Passersby say, what a sight.
My bones now show, I hardly walk.
How long ago since we did talk.
I am a dog, not lost.
Weary, numb, I hardly see,
It seems that now I'm at your feet,
Oh master, my master, have you forgot,
I'm yours, All yours.
A dog lost not.
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