The Bulldog

There's a lake and a sunset.
There is just us there: me, Steve and Bob
and my closest friend – longing.
The men talk about their acquaintances,
most of them are dead.
Bob's dog puts his paw on my knee.
He doesn't go to Bob or Steve,
he stays by me all night, he can sense
that I'm the one that spends
too much time wondering why
the sunset doesn't rush into me.