When Sepia Is No More Comments
Every time I step outside
I look back at where he used to be
half-expecting to see a flash of chestnut brown fur,
to hear a low mangled howl,
...
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On my goodness! You have managed to take one of the saddest experiences we ever go through, which is losing our precious, beloved pets, and turned it into a most beautiful poem. This poem truly tells how much your Bronson was loved and will be missed. You have an amazing talent with the written word.
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7/28/2025 2:51:46 PM # 1.0.0
I have been wondering about Bronson's situation since reading your poem about him. Now I know. And lines from KING LEAR came to me when a faithful follower says of the king's death VEX NOT HIS GHOST. O LET HIM PASS! THE WONDER IS HE HATH ENDURED SO LONG. Shakespeare was writing about a human's death, but that doesn't matter, your words about Bronson's life and abuse touched chords of compassion in me. I'm glad he could die with dignity when living became too painful. Your poem has a fine, formal gravitas to it. It's a true farewell - fare-thee-well.