When a Beagle Dies Alone
A beagle rests on his cancer charged stomach
but forgets to moan.
Moulding into the sunless
wet clay beneath the patio steps,
lazily flaking away like bark
on trees in a dying Cajun bayou.
Avoids the family’s forced funereal smiles
and the sour water in his dish
as the ebbing terror in rabbits
paws and mocks his extinct instincts.
The endless begging
for the leash he no longer retrieves
shapes his last morsel of life.
Nothing is sadder than when a beagle dies
The grief remains
with every monotone doorbell ring.