Fourteen almost fifteen

a Tiny Kingdom poem about growing older together

He always finds the sunlight.
Fourteen years, nearly fifteen,
and still, he knows exactly where to go.

I watch him now,
his body smaller,
his fur thinner,
but he is still my Donder.

He’s quieter these days,
but there’s a calmness in him
that I envy
a quiet trust
that everything is as it should be.

I sit here,
thinking of all the years we’ve shared,
all the storms he’s carried me through.

And now, in the light,
he rests,
and I can’t help but wonder
how I got so lucky
to love him this long.

the Royal Library