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,
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
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
Third Poem to Lance
Poem to Lance "A Puppy's Death"
Poem to Lance "When All Is Said and Done"