Breathing (Remembering Buddy)

His breathing at night was a comfort.
So too his snores,
small yelps
that erupted from dreaming.

His was more than a casual performer.

His last great breath
that announced his final surrender
was to us a gift.

We awaited that breath
every night.
Once we knew he slept,
we ourselves could finally surrender.

Aging, DeathSuzi Peel