Old One

by Mia C. Rossi

To red and white, the old one pacing

in the middle of the night. I hear

your racing heart rate double noise

and fear to think about the way

in which it's getting worse 'for wear'

but mostly worse for us, the dear

compassionate oafs who hold her

feed her let her outside to play

and poop and sniff the garden over

sniff it all up with her great nose