Putting This Toy Away

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?

It's time to close Tasha's blog. I can't put her bed away yet, or her water bowls, but she's not here to write for her Web site anymore. She had a very unique writing style, though, don't you think? I think she'd say, "Dat's wite, Kyo. Snif ya later."

PUTTING OUR TOYS AWAY

Thank you for fighting to save me,
thank you for letting me go.
I tried so hard to stay and when
at last I had to leave your arms
I didn't know you'd cry so much,
for such a little friend.
I saw you put our toys away.
Don't you want to play
with the ball or the squeaky bone?
Maybe it wouldn't be as fun
to play with them alone.
That place you made in the yard
is nice, with flowers and a teddy bear.
I'll try to get my teeth on that
and drag it laughing through the air.
I watched you find a photo of me
and put it on the fridge.
I will remember your face as well,
and I'll meet you at the bridge.


© 2000 Kyle Kimberlin

-- Kyle, Tasha's best friend