In the hush of this little room

 In the hush of this little room,

Sunlight spills but cannot bloom.
An empty bed rests soft and round,
Still holding echoes, still holding sound.

The leash lies folded, patient, still—
As if it waits to climb that hill
We once walked together, side by side,
Through fields alive, our hearts untied.

Your toys remain, a gentle scatter—
A rope, a bone, a ball that mattered.
They sit untouched, in quiet grace,
Each one a memory I can trace.

A jar of treats sits sealed and clear,
No eager paws, no wagging near.
And in the silence, every part
Becomes a map straight to my heart.

The window frames the world outside,
A path we roamed, a life so wide.
But now that view feels dim and far
Without your joy, my guiding star.

Though this small bed is still and bare,
I feel your spirit everywhere.
Soft as a whisper, close as breath,
Love outlasting even death.

No leash, no toy, no treat, no bed
Could measure all the life you led.
So in this room, I stand and stay
Holding you in my own way.

Until the bridge where all hearts mend,
I’ll wait for you, my dearest friend.