by dave pishnery
The Passing
I wrapped him up
in his favorite blanket,
the one with the airplanes,
the one he filched
from the boys when
they weren't looking.
Now I know what
dead weight means,
the dead weight
in my arms and heart.
This is better than
being found dead
by the side of the road
with his head bashed in,
better than a painful death
from cancer,
better than watching
him put to sleep.
The Vet said come back
in a week
to pick up the ashes.
I knew this would happen
sooner or later,
but not to me.
You never think you wpould die
or the loved ones
you hold close,
but you can't help it,
it's natural to love
and be loved.
It's the letting go
that hurts.