A Dog Named Lance

Dawn breaks in Wyoming,
On a cabin and a boat.
A splash of water and they’re off.
Two pals are set afloat.

Locked on point he stands there,
A fixed and silent stare.
A look back at his partner,
Then feathers fill the air.

The campfire circle tightens,
Good buddies gather round.
Most sit on chairs or benches,
But one lies on the ground.

How long has it been Lance,
Since on this trip we started?
All those roads and all those miles,
And never once we parted.

It’s time to say goodbye now,
We knew this day would come.
But someday we will meet again.
And I will watch you run.

Life can be so perfect
If two can share a plan.
Mike and Lance.  An open road.
A truck. A dog. A man.

Category: Poetry, Real Men

Back to top