Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day

The dog is my shadow and I fear his loss. My loss.
I cook for him daily, in hope of retaining him.

Each regret is a thread woven around the oak’s branches.
Each day lived is one less to live.

Soon the rabbits will be safe, and the squirrels.
As if they were not. One morning

I’ll greet an empty space and walk alone,
toss the ball into the yard, where it will remain.

It is Mother’s Day.
Why did I not weep at my mother’s grave?

I unravel the threads and place them around the dog.
The wind carries them aloft.

“Mother’s Day” first appeared in The Lake in July 2016.

25 thoughts on “Mother’s Day

  1. We take in a pet, with the guarantee of a loss in the future, knowing the good will outweigh that loss. Even so, the loss can seem so tragic when the window of good is so relatively short.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful and thoughtful lines, Robert. We love our animals to bits.

    You may be interested in this Polish saying: A mother’s love is the greatest, then a dog’s, then a sweetheart’s.

    Liked by 1 person

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