The Old Sea Dog

A poor doggie’s tail

The Old Sea Dog

The smell of seaweed

That’s washed up on the shore,

Along with plastic bottles

Also part of an old door.

There he lay

Looking sad and bedraggled,

In his poor lonely way

No sign of life at all.

From the body so fragile and small

We carried him high above the tide line

With our hands, dug in the soft ground.

Laying him in a shallow grave

So humble, yet so fine.

We said a small prayer

For the lost soul that lay there.

Then we covered the grave

With a weather beaten log.

We wrote on these simple words

“Here lies an old sea dog.”