They wheel him out doors,
lock wheels.
The old dog brings a stick.
He heaves it from his seat—
a wheelchair in wanlight—
Sun through empty branches.
Days past he’d fetch the stick again.
He leans down,
strokes the wiry nape—
Posted in response to Ragtag Community Word of the Day play.
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 
Awww. Sad and sweet at the same time.
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