Blessing the Hounds
The red fox has gone to ground,
leaving two old dogs,
gray muzzle and gray beard,
prowling the parlor rug
for scent gilded memories.
They have no thanks to give this year,
sit out hunting season dozing by her picture.
Awaiting hunt master's final horn,
the only blessing they seek--
answering his home call together.
Some shades of gray in here for dVerse Poets Form for All and 55 words for the G-Man's Friday 55. Drop by to see what others wrote or to join the fun yourself.