Crescent moon,
in an indigo sky,
two bright stars
shining
port-side,
I know right now
you are looking down
on a world
of pain:
where mothers
are losing their children,
where massacres
are taking place,
and where
starvation is claiming
the lives of many;
a world where
hopelessness and pain
are global.
Forgive
my heartbreak
over losing
this one old wolf-pup,
now spending
his last
remaining weeks
with me.
I know that,
in the grand scale
of things,
this is
a small
and manageable
heartbreak;
that the fourteen years
he has been
by my side
is a gift.
I know that
the best gift
I can now
return to him
is a kind death,
in his own home,
surrounded by love,
not in distress,
not in crisis,
not in
unbearable pain.
I know
that I can do this,
for him,
because
I love him,
given mothers
are watching
their children
die tonight,
and I have two
-maybe three -
more weeks
before
it is
Time.
Moon,
I see your beauty
and your serenity
up there,
free from
the turmoil
and the cost
of living
on this earth.
My wolf-dog
has howled
to you
on lonely midnights,
when he
most missed
his pack.
But then
he'd come
inside
and flop down
right beside me.
There was
nowhere
that he
would
rather be.
He waited
fourteen years
to let me know
that he was leaving.
He waited
until I could bear
the loss,
knowing that
the best gift
I can
give him
is to return him to
the wilderness
he loves,
that he gave up
to be with me,
through first
the best years,
then the worst years
of my life.
The vet says
he is hanging on
by a thread.
This morning
I thought
I had waited
much too long.
But up he got,
after collapsing,
one more time,
because
I asked him to
and he
will always
try.
She says
"Two weeks-
maybe three,
it is The End time."
Because it is not
Today
I can keep going,
but I am counting down
the days, now,
each by each,
till I release him
finally
back
to his
beloved
beach.
