She used to catch
Blueberries
Until my hand was empty.
Pieces of carrot
With great enthusiasm.
Bits of kibble
One after the other.
Only occasionally one would hit the floor.
Our applause soared
Through our hearts and home.
We loved to feed her carrots.
And watch her chew
Slowly, gently, deliberately.
Later, she missed
One after another
And occasionally
Caught a morsel.
Our applause filled the kitchen.
Yet later, she missed most
And struggled to stand.
So, I placed the pieces near her mouth.
Even later,
She wouldn’t eat
Blueberries
Or salmon
Or even swallow the crisp Fall air.
Our applause froze
In the winter of her life.
Lucy Sage began writing poetry at a young age. Born in Philadelphia, she subsequently lived in the Philippines and Nigeria while her father worked for the United Nations. She attended boarding school in England in the mid-sixties but dropped out of high school in 1969 to live in San Francisco. After waitressing and finally earning her degrees, she worked for politicians for 30 years. In addition to poetry, she likes riding her bike, painting, walking with her dog, and exploring cities. She has called St Petersburg, Florida, home since 2015. Her poems have been published in Neptune, a local poetry and art.