The Invitation

just after first light

in the crisp autumn air

walking with my dogs

as they chased the lingering

scents of the night

an invitation arrived

on what might have been

a curled sycamore leaf

brown edges cursive script

to attend a farewell

to an old friend who sat

alone waiting

in a brightening room of the forest

my faithful companion born

of days when i was never enough

wise guide of reserve and restraint

self-loathing and shame

who kept me safe from

what harm i do not know

the time had come

the work having been done

to tread alone down the footpath

curving at glade's end

and disappearing in the

overgrown bramble

of the thick wood