Yesterday, my family
received the news that
my grandfather was dead.
Each preceding week, his
prognosis had worsened,
and his death
came as no surprise.
And today, I grieve
more for my dog,
dead for six years,
than for him, who
isn’t in the ground.
Death reminds man
that he is still alive.
It reminds me
of my dog and
the trouble it is
to love when death is
always hiding. In the dark
alley, or inside yourself.
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