There is nothing, just
nothing they can give
you, not for this. You’ve set the time
they will arrive with needles, something
liquid clear and final, and
some sorries, surely
so the suffering will go out
But for now, you mark
the labored rise of ribs, fur
floated into every corner
of your life, there will be
so much less to clean, feel
your own breaths, halting
there is only left to pray
to all you can’t believe for
opposite outcomes
the sudden, the please-not-soon
and choke back salty
guilt, in either case
Within this space of ending, it hits you
you have no box the modest size of such
overwhelming absence, no way
to wrap this hollow gift
you denied so long, so
hungrily, that time
would ever bring
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Comments
I’ve thought, more than a few times, that the passing of a pet is harder than losing people. That cat, or dog, or whatever, they give you unconditional love, and all you can do is hope to match it in return. And the hole they leave behind … never quite fills in, never quite heals. You and kitty are in my thoughts, and had I prayers, you’d be there too…