I wrote the first poem as a response to Robert Lee Brewer's 2008 Poem a Day Challenge, day 5 prompt: write about something you dread. As Scully had just turned 10, I wrote about dreading "The day".
Decade
My ten-year-old Weimaraner,
the one whose leg may be broken,
who sports yet another set of stitches,
I fear the day I will have to hold her
muzzel close as she struggles
for air. I shy from the day I will see
her deep keel still, her eyes haze, her
tail cease to move, her paws lie still.
I avoid the thought of where she
will lay down for the last time, or
where I will spread her ashes, or upon
which mantle I will keep her urn. I look
into her yellow eyes and vow to spend
more time tossing the ball, scratching her
ears, rubbing her near hairless belly. I know
that I will forget that silent promise until the
next medical emergency will remind
me that she was 69 on her last birthday.
For Scully --
June 27, 2012
I carry my grief like a gift,
tucked under my heart.
Encapsulated by my ribs,
absorbed like nutrition
with every heartbeat, the cells
of my body drink grief up.
It sweeps through cell
membranes, into nuclei.
Inserts itself into my DNA,
becomes a permanent feature
in its permanent tomb. My grief, a tiny
reminder of the place you held in my life.
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