Happy Hunting Grounds

The home we used to live in, where you took your final breath;

We sold and found a new one, for I was so bereft!

The spots where I used to see you, brought too much heartache and loud cries;

For all were laying vacant, except for teardrops from my eyes!

But once a week I go back there, to our “hood”, where my heart is bound;

To visit all our “hallowed haunts”; your “Happy Hunting Grounds”!

Like the three bushes you’d anoint each day, that now so sacred, are to me;

And the traffic island you’d insist, I take you there to pee!

Your doggie friends that lived real close, you’d leave your calling card;

They’d find it on a silver tray, in the hallway of their yard!

And the “offices” where you worked each day, doing business in at least two;

And the street light poles you’d never miss; your lifted leg to spew!

These habits that I treasure now, as I walk the paths of us;

But now I travel them alone, as I ache for that which was!

Then I look up to the stars above, and they tell me “you have found”;

“New places where you go each day, in Heavens’ Happy Hunting Grounds”!