I carry my dog up the stairs

I carry my dog up the stairs
And lay her on her cushion.
She grumbles and licks the air
Then gently begins to snore.
I take a moment and remember
How she used to run and run -
Chase the fleeing deer
Then collapse happy, panting in the sun.
I can see, as she does not,
That death grows sadly near.
You say, "Hey there,
I'm waiting, come to bed."

Knowledge is such a knife, one day you also
Will have trouble with the stairs,
You who're now so nimble in love's dance.
The bright shine will desert the hair
That spreads red across the pillow,
And the lovely framed face
Glowing from spring's fond embrace,
Will grow wrinkled and white
When winter takes spring's place.
You say, "Forget the dog and come to bed."

Though you are my springtime,
That you should be like the year!
And suffer a winter's endless night,
And then be gone, soon forgotten.
Oh, the thought fills me with angry fright!
You say, "Slowpoke, come to bed already."

Images, light captured in reflection,
Moving or still, tease the eye,
Preserving only the surface.
The sight of the loved one when gone,
The sight which looks so close
But is so impossibly far,
Brings only sadness and desolation.
I'll keep no such mirrors
To call you to mind, when you're no longer here.
You say, "Don't stand there like a dope! Come to bed!"

Surely with words though,
Words, those crystal pearls
Which separate us from all creation,
Which let us model and mold that same creation,
Surely through my words you can time transcend
And escape life's cruel destruction.
Yet again and again these
Efforts falter and fail,
The best I can do are 2.5s and 3s,
In the list today, gone tomorrow,
Mediocre life in miniature.
You say, "Idiot, come to bed!"

Perhaps a child.
Though not itself of value as a replica,
Admitting in its genesis a fatal pollution,
A child carries in its head
Simulacra of its parents.
Providing them a measure of life beyond life.
But what would a child learn of you?
You would be so rarely there, and
When present, would think only of your cares,
Your looks and friends your first concern.
Your child's view would be damaged and false
And'd preserve you, a monster in its head.
You say, "Darling, come to bed."

As I can't preserve you in time,
It's good that through space you spread.
I never ask about your luncheon dates
Or what you're doing out late at night.
You say, "Last chance, come to bed",
I do, after turning out the light.