<p><i> A copper-white streak across the field,</i></p> <p><i> Darting through dunes, power to wield . . .</i></p> <p><i> A Brittany spaniel at home on the moors</i></p> <p><i> Not of French, but Vineyard shores.</i></p> <p><i> Like a king atop ridges he’d survey his land,</i></p> <p><i> Alert ears, tail — and again sail the sand.</i></p> <p><i> When he did pause and gaze with amber eyes</i></p> <p><i> Upon those he loved, with his soul so wise . . .</i></p> <p><i>’Twas clear Copper to no other could compare:</i></p>
A copper-white streak across the field,
Darting through dunes, power to wield . . .
A Brittany spaniel at home on the moors
Not of French, but Vineyard shores.
Like a king atop ridges he’d survey his land,
Alert ears, tail — and again sail the sand.
When he did pause and gaze with amber eyes
Upon those he loved, with his soul so wise . . .
’Twas clear Copper to no other could compare:
He was smarter, faster, so very rare.
A great spirit and knowing sage was he;
A quiet companion with agility
To buoy his carefree summer spree:
An image of Life, of Joy, of What Might Be.
Look out the window, look out toward the sea . . .
With the wind you’ll see Copper, running free.
For Copper, Jan. 19, 1995-Sept. 4, 2006
— Holly Hodder Eger

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