The Bethany house came as expected:
views of the sea over dunes and grass,
sand throughout, blankets with strange smells,
porch pots with dead geraniums "please replace,"
New Yorkers of past years with Parts 1 and 3
of a 3 part series by John McPhee,
the sound of waves, gulls, and children,
rain on days of planned beach volleyball,
and a dog.
Mornings brought the Shepard mix we
named Pismo. Waiting on the porch with
his giant tail sweeping sand and grit
from the boards, he begged for last
night's leftovers and kibble from Wawa.
Food, a nap, and then a departure to
unknown places. Following him would
have broken the karma. We didn't
know where he want but we know it
didn't matter. He shared with us what
he wanted and his departure left a
void we could not fill.
Just when sleep should come
she shows up with her
haunting face and a voice
soft as cobwebs in the night.
A name wrapped in mistakes.
Hurt, pain, and some joy.
Perhaps another dream
will change things.
Robert Halleck is a hospice volunteer who plays bad golf in his spare time. He has written poetry fro over 50 years. Recent poems have appeared in the San Diego Poetry Anthology for 2014-2015, Blue Pepper, and Word Soup.