Mo

No one better with whom to ride or run,

Perfectly harmonized and so much fun.

I watch his moves, he watches mine;

Both grinning ear to ear the entire time.

The heat of the summer, chilling at the lake,

His joy is pure: always real, never fake.

Leaping in the water to chase any piece of wood;

I swim under, he worries; he thinks he should.

Fall comes and Mo becomes a bit sad

Until the sound of bike tyres on gravel; he is glad.

Back from work, we head to the trails together

Dog and human, but still birds of a feather.

Winter, when it blesses us with snow,

Mo is more than ever happy with me to go.

Deep in the snow he plunges his nose;

He bites at the ice that gathers between his toes.

Spring days followed by a shorter night

Mean more Mo time to his delight.

Mountain trails, lakes, and streams further from home;

More choices for Mo and Mom to roam.

No conditions are put on Mo’s love for me

And, of course, my love for him is just as easy.

August 29, 2024