Traces of You

I heard you in the night

crying

crying out for comfort.

When I looked for you,

you were there,

but you weren’t.

 

I put my hand on

your chest

daring to feel it move,

even hoping.

But you were still.

 

I looked into your eyes

willing them to move,

to register me.

But they don’t.

 

You are hone.

I sob.

All these traces of you

are scattered everywhere:

a sweater

a bone

a jingle collar

a piece of kibble

all reminders that you were once here

but no longer aren’t.

 

My memories are large

and small.

The major things:

adopting you

loving you

walking you

petting you

amputating your toe

Christmases

all flow together

in a single stream,

one almost indistinguishable

from the next,

all molded together

to form our love for you.

Walking through,

I feel old habits die hard,

small memories lingering

but no longer needed:

gazing at your spot

touching your things

remembering your stinky breath

(and it was, no lie)

leaving the light on for you

            so you wouldn’t

            feel lonely

checking your water dish

all things that are

an accumulation of time.

 

Things were hard in the end

because you had grown

old and different

which happens

to the best of us.

I had no chance

to say goodbye

or at least

didn’t think of it.

But we all didn’t

think about it.

Regardless, you’re still here

in our heats

and I’ll hold onto

the memory of you forever.

It will be my gift,

shared by others.

 

---

 

I love you, Samantha. 

Author's Note

Yesterday, my dog passed away, and it's been very difficult.

Reviews

[Dalton]

I like this stream of consciousness, despite it being of despair.

[E.V. Black]

Thank you. I wanted my thoughts to just flow out.

[Mary Helda]

Oh dear..sorry about that..i can really feel your pain in the poem...sad write

[E.V. Black]

Thank you. It's been very hard. I've been crying off and on yesterday and today.

[Mary Helda]

A new day will come and wash away your tears..just stay strong