DEAD DOG
I let the dog die – there she lay
and I thought: where is she going now, where
will she stay. To understand death.
The body is sometimes seen as a nest
the temporary dwelling of an invisible
bird – an envoy of eternity.
I don’t see it that way. And yet when the dog died
what was it that I knew she was dying
as if her body was being vacated by something.
I can’t see it another way, this dead dog
is still alive and asking for me, the memory is
that strong, stronger than I.
But what loved me is gone, I dig a hole
lay what is left in it and fill it up.
The dog is nowhere, every day.