The biggest sign
that love transcends death
was feeling your snout on the edge of my bed,
the morning after you died,
the way you woke me every morning of your life.
You gave a soft "whuff",
pressed your nose down hard,
right about the time your big noisy body
was being fed into the flames.
(It still kills me, you burning.
But there was no other way
this nomadic, homeless person
could keep you with me, except in the urn,
which goes with me everywhere,
and will go into my coffin when I am gone.)
I didn't open my eyes. I was just waking,
into the rest of my life without you,
and I thought you were Gone.
I still hear that "whuff",
feel the weight of your snout on
the edge of my bed,
that final morning
when you came to tell me
Pup, my wild wolf, the love of my life, left this world January 15, 2011.