Somewhere
At the end of the world,
A dog lies by a mahogany door
Waiting
for the sound of copper keys.
For footsteps.
While her tail is now too heavy to thump,
Her bones, like the wood,
hard like sore teeth,
beg to escape her skin.
The fur on her snout greys,
her ears drop,
Forgotten.
But of course, she waits.
At the end of the world,
A dog lies by a mahogany door
Waiting
for the sound of copper keys.
For footsteps.
While her tail is now too heavy to thump,
Her bones, like the wood,
hard like sore teeth,
beg to escape her skin.
The fur on her snout greys,
her ears drop,
Forgotten.
But of course, she waits.
![](https://www.irishtimes.com/resizer/v2/RPME6EVAVNE33HVY5QWDRCWKBU.jpg?auth=42c527bde8c3d0aa277b07f6aeaba734b8fdad678b5694aa940b324b0efe66a3&width=800&height=1007)
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