2006
there was no dog this winter
there was no slipping on the ice
there was no ice stuck between her pads
no crashing across the hard-froze top of the night-old snow
there was not the black warmth of my long-time dog
nor cold nose
nor laying in snow as i charged up my bike
no extra chicken necks and extra-pained hips
no pattering, no hesitating in the ice-slick foyer tile
no silent pain from my ever-silent dog
whose every claw clench on the hard-froze sent shocks into her hips
and she
not a word
and she
not a tear
and she
walked off not
she did not abandon
she did not retreat to an under-tree to die
she merely lay under the glass desk
her chin on my feet, said
“you know the medicines are insufficient …
“you know that it is my soiling on the bed
and i, i am so ashamed, please forgive me
but i do enjoy the window while you at work
“and the stairs are full of scares
for i see only dimly now
and the depths are not defined and my eyes, well, they trick me