by Lisa Schliff
I kiss the top of her head,
She climbs on me to sleep.
We watch each other grow old.
Her sinewy haunches shrink, mine spread.
Her bones stick out, mine weaken.
Aches and pains we share, sisters of the ages.
Her sage green eyes, once sharp, now leak and fail.
Once springing and bounding,
Now she drags and tiptoes like a broken ballerina.
She once stalked wildlife, a diminutive lioness of the Sierra jungles.
Now she bumps into the walls like a drunken teenager.
I am stronger, but not that far behind.
We share the downhill slide.