In seventynine

June 15, 2011

In seventynine,
my birth,
was accessorised by:
my umbilical cord
wrapped five times round my neck,
and my mother’s refusal to cry out

Later, a doctor pointed
to her and said
to another woman:
‘Be quiet! If she had screamed like you do,
her child would not have made it’.
Then I was brought out,
a caterpillar wrapped
in a hospital blanket
and held like a prize
for the brave and the silent

Years later,
she was the one wrapped
in a blanket.
She was breathing heavily –
a wheezing fuse
of life
almost at an end
she opened her eyes (the last time) and
her head jerked towards me.
Her eyes opened, then she passed,
and they closed again.

The dog was deaf by then
and slept peacefully.
He thought that two people he loved
were in the room.



September 17, 2010

Strap on this dog
We exit here, no flash
photography please

We will walk down
to where
Lex waits no longer
In her urn

And see if deer
have eaten
The flowers we planted
on top of her

So strap on this
guide dog harness
Lead me in silence
Full of trust

And maybe after
If you ask i will in turn
Lead you to where
a dog is is buried