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Last Night with Lance
(August 17, 1994)

The chimes are quiet. There's no wind tonight. Only the sound of Stabbing Grief against the splintering backdrop of my Broken Heart. And as I reach out quivering into the Summer Darkness, I feel but only the ricochet of numbness paralyze me with Cool Emptiness: precognitive of the long hours ahead. I don't sleep much, of course. There's much to take in, all scent and sound, as I watch my young dog dying, tearful-forced intervals of fleeting courage, to catch the rise and fall of his sweet breaths and numbered sighs in his cocoon of restless Slumber. His last night with me. His eyes and lips dance and twitch in contorted Dreams that I hope will someday, by Someone, be gently Answered. That he will be Gone too soon for Reality and Despair to fully fathom, though I pray for the release of his Sweet Sufferings - before the Tidal Wave carries my Soul to Sea, I savor the last of all gifted, exquisite Moments of the sounds and scents of Him embedded in me so deeply, suspended in a freeze-frame of Love and Loyalty and unrequited Fire cut short . . . As I hold him painfully tight against me at the moment of His passing, as I felt the demise of something inside me depart as well, I heard outside the caving of my World the song of Chimes on this Windless night, realizing it was his Spirit passing by. I thought to wonder if even he looked back for just a second he would have seen the shattered remnants of a human that Loved him more than Life itself lift her hand faintly, reluctantly, and Wave Goodbye.

Third Poem to Lance

Poem to Lance "A Puppy's Death"

Poem to Lance "When All Is Said and Done"

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