Heidi, my love
A soft whimper,
Three soft moans,
Where is she?
Not on the floor
beside my bed;
Not on the bed
with the alarm.
Outside the door?
No. The bathroom?
The closet door is not shut.
More soft, desperate whimpering.
Heidi, are you OK?
Is she dead? Could I bear it if she is gone?
No.
My big black bag is on the closet knob.
It obscures her view.
She thinks she can’t
Get out.
As I pull the door…
The thrashing tail, the pink tongue, the loving brown eyes,
The failing attempt to keep all four paws on the ground.
Delightful.
Freedom.
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