Gone, but Here

It’s a gray October afternoon,
and the house is quiet—too quiet.
Yesterday, I said goodbye,
to the ones who filled these rooms with life,
tails that once wagged with unspoken love,
now only echoes in the stillness.

They were old and tired,
their eyes clouded with years,
yet their smiles, fleeting and gentle,
reminded me of the joy we shared,
even as time gently pulled them away.

I carry the weight of their absence,
in every corner where paws once danced,
in the spaces where chaos turned to comfort,
and now—only silence lingers.

I still wait to see them,
curled up by the window,
or rushing to greet me,
but the emptiness reminds me—
they are somewhere else now.

I hope they walked into the beyond,
knowing how much they meant,
how they changed me, healed me,
became a part of me.

And though their beds are empty,
and their toys untouched,
they will forever walk beside me,
soft footsteps in my heart.