Don McCrea

(Beatrice, Nebraska, US)

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Best Poem of Don McCrea

Ode To A Hound

While walking in the dark,
I heard a wailing sound.
Our behing the park,
was just a sad old hound.
He turned with eyes so sad,
that spoke of years long past.
His life a rough lot had,
he'd found his place at last.
And slowly he sat down,
gave tail a shakey wag.
His eyes were sadly brown,
his back a painful sag.
Then when he looked at me,
I just had to go to him.
Then in eyes did see,
tho they were very dim.
He said make room for me,
for I can hardly see.
Under yonder tree of shade,
my comfort would improve.
Said, ...

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