You told me to lie on my bed on the floor
then left me for eight days.
Though to me it seemed longer.
In circles I turned and turned
searching for a way
to lie on my bed on the floor,
and keep my eye on the door.
When John came we walked and played
for hours, though it seemed longer.
I knew you hadn't gone to the store,
but for an endless hospital stay
while I waited for you on the floor.
Each time the elevator door
opened, I'd bark and bay
hoping that it wouldn't be any longer,
that you'd be home before
the end of the day,
and we'd be in your bed off the floor.
We'd lie together with my paw
on your chest and stay
until morning, though it seemed longer.
When you came home just a little stronger
and I nosed and rubbed my favorite odor
you lay down on my bed on the floor
for an hour, though to me it seemed longer.