By The Gates

This poem is inspired by a family who's house I walked past going home from school for 6 years!

Old Jess by the gate, 
her hair a black comforting sight,
he was home now and could rest in peace,
school behind him, the evening ahead.

Playing ball, talking, singing,
hugging onto her small neck with bruised fingers,
a boy's best friend, to a pup, ancient,
but still a welcomed companion.

And the boy's grandpa always comes to visit on Thursday,
money in his pocket, a smile on his face
"my bones are breaking, my bleeding gums"
"Happy 100th birthday" a joke uttered yearly.

And an old plant his mother had placed in the garden,
by the front gate, some twenty years ago.
Her dad was younger, Jess not even around
and her son only a hope for a bright future.

And this beautiful bulb is withering.

Had seen a new dog, son and who ever else passed though their gates to their destination.

Done her duty well but Hormones make her age and I wonder what it's like to be an old plant?

Author's Note

My dog in the picture.