Saturday, December 3, 2011

For a Good Dog

A friend of mine recently suffered a tragic loss. Perhaps some day she'll see this. Perhaps she won't want to. But it awoke an old pain in me, for a dog I lost before I got Nick. Today, these words just wanted to come out.

~ * ~

This morning I awoke and you were still –
No. I can't say the word,
So brutal, so final, so damning.
But you were not
There as the sun rose,
Your fleet form racing across the fields,
Red tongue lolling,
At me, mud-bound in my human form.
The others know you are gone.
There is a space among their furry, gently-swirling bodies
That they do not touch.
Where you should be.
What if. If only.
If only I had been
If only I could stave off Death by the sheer force of my will.
My anguish.
My need/wish/want to undo just one moment,
One fractional instant of time,
And have you
Your silken head under my hand.
Your bright eyes at my feet,
Shining in the grass,
Laser-leveled at the sheep who speak (spoke)
To the silent, siren calling of your blood.
I try not to look at the places where
Are not.
At the void you once filled
With the vibrant, joyful Is-ness of your being.
But that would mean
Not looking
At those who curl around my legs,
Caress my hands with damp tongues,
Trying, in their way, to
Touch me.
If only the corroding tears could
Blind me to your absence.
The shards of my heart
Grate together like broken bones.

~ For J. E.
© G. M. Atwater
At Mountain House, 30 November 2011


gvmama said...

Beautiful Gloria. Thank-you.

G. M. Atwater said...

You're welcome. Thank you for reading. :)