On this, malignant aridity of a Sunday night
I entertain the thought
Of my dog’s death.
I’ve nursed one before to his final sip
We gave him water through a syringe
Told him it was okay to leave,
To go to his favourite beach
This is that dog’s own son
Who I’m having palpitating fears hereof
Tis why my love is doubled up
He’s his Dad reborn
Grief will be a noose-tight harness
Hanging above all that is good but my
Feet won’t reach the floor to move on
With the loss of our Dad forthcoming,
I hope Mum will laugh again
In broken pieces that will code her grief in
I don’t wanna lose my dog as well
But if I could trade him in
For the man that’s ill
I wouldn’t
He’d sacrifice himself
Palm Tree Poetry 