Old Boy I shall miss your snores From beneath the dining room table, Between the larder and the front door. Their low mumble through the wall - The sound of a continuity announcer on Radio 4.
Old Boy I shall miss your meet And greet, with wagging tail. Your dolphin nose nudging my thigh, Leading me away from the open sea, To calmer waters, the safety of the shore.
Old Boy I shall miss that long Sigh and those puppy eyes, Your shoulders slumped and head hung low, As if you have never been less loved in your life, While loitering near to where the treats are kept.
Old Boy I shall miss you lying In the middle of the kitchen floor, Immovable, inconvenient, oblivious, To the humans stepping over you, Like clumsy astronauts walking on your moon.
Old Boy I shall miss that noble, Gentle, heart of yours, In that lumpy, bumpy body Held aloft by those stiff old joints, Trembling with every step.
Yes, old boy, I shall miss you. It’s been the best of walks.
Simon Denegri Poetry 