You couldn’t write letters

 You couldn’t write letters.

You couldn’t speak in words.

But you left me notes anyway—
in pawprints by the door,
on muddy trails in the yard,
and now, pressed deep into my memory.

Every pawprint was your way of saying:
“I was here. I loved you. I always will.”

Even now, those notes remain.
They remind me that love leaves marks too deep to fade.
A note in pawprints, forever etched on my soul.