Faithful

He lies beside me, watching quietly,

anticipating moments from the day

before, his call to arms, a restless fray

of tousle, tease, and spurts of energy,

with hints of deference and mastery

in loving touches; and his eyes betray

his fealty, an intimate display

of clashing souls, an age-old mystery.

 

But now contentment hastens to retreat:

a spirit hovers, solemnly aware

of ultimatums never to be known

by my companion, lost in bittersweet

oblivion, like autumn breaths that bare

the aging cypress, brittle and alone.