FOR THOMAS O’MALLEY

FOR THOMAS O’MALLEY
by Heather Smith

I closed the door with care
As if the action could disturb the sleeper;
But even as I sought the comfort Of the well-worn chair;
the picture stayed,
Not only in my mind but on the very walls Upon the curtains and the muddied floor.
Just three short hours to die –
To fade,
and with a gentle kick
To journey beyond his much-loved home.
No screams or growls attended
That quiet passing;
just laboured breath
And then a dreadful silence.
I wish it was not autumn when
All leaves are golden like his glorious coat,
And shadows stretch like cats
Across the evening lawn.