Returning Home Poem by R E Mason

It is good to see new life in the old dog learning new tricks.
When all thought of juvenile playfulness had vanished from your mind,
Like fresh spring shoots,
Emergent in hidden crevasses and dark corners,
Surprise you with joyful shivers down your spine.
In a business suit and mirror polished shoes,
A mourner at his own youthful funeral.
But take him to a secret woodland,
Sweet soil smell rising after light spring rain,
And he will run, skip and sing,
A pit-pony loosed after years in the darkened tunnels of bureaucracy.
Alive again.