It was Saturday night
When the first snowflake falling
on your bangs
Seeing around no one around
Only an old beagle stood at the
dark crossroad
Giving a cold look, like the old
lady on the Aberdeen train this evening
It was such a long way
You heard a jingle bells song
from a far, as the house in front of you
You did not move anywhere
Freezing cold outside, freaking
awkward inside
Hesitation needed to manage
You could see mother stirring up
a warm hairst bree
failing finding it in any other
places tho, possible no longer
Father wore an army sweater you
bought the last winter
He’s busy with the phone, made
the fifth call
still no answers returned
He then made a crisp joke as he
always did
about the dog who became a
national symbol for grief
They laughed.
As you managed to lift the leg, something
pulled your hand
Your body felt lighter
mother and father you could see no
longer
the house was farther, smaller
Sunday morning
the beagle was still there
the train would never come.
