Like A Dog Chasing Its Tail Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

I woke up one morning, and you were gone.
But there you were, still wearing my ring.
How could I be so wrong to think you were mine?
I looked for any old similarities and found none.
I was lost, and not a trace of you lingered on.
I was at a station with no destination known.
And more luggage than I knew what to do with
I queried your eyes, thinking, 'Does she see me? '
Am I even here? Is someone else speaking for her?
And then I wept a silent tear, but I didn't show it.
That would have just been too weird. So, I left.
Because she asked me to, but where do I go?
I don't know; I beg my shadow to lead the way.
But like a stray dog chasing its tail, I wake each day.
At morn, and if I had one, I'd look across the lawn.
Look for your coming, calling me back home.