Rusty's Ghost Scent

The park grass, wet and cool, just so,

the sprinkler just turned off, you know.

And then that smell, damp earth and pine,

a musky, sweet, forgotten sign.

And there he was, for half a breath,

cheating time, cheating death.

Rusty, all gold fur and bark,

a memory rising from the dark.

That happy trot, the slobbering kiss,

the joy I always seemed to miss

once he was gone. A phantom paw,

a ghost of hunger, breaking law

of what is real. Just the smell,

and then the memory, it fell

back down to earth. I stood alone,

with damp grass, and a quiet groan.