Profound

By Auriah Jordan-Smith

it was a profound day for me,

doting on my dying dog.

smack came from the window,

“oh no”,

i told him to sit tight

as i went outside to gaze upon

this bird:

poor darling with a broken neck

no eye movements, no breathing.

this bird

representing beauty all but dead in a single moment.

this bird…

my dog…

i couldn’t help the tears.

i brought him outside to grieve with me;

to smell and to think.

maybe he already knew the smell of dying things,

but i looked and i sat,

lightly petting my poor darling,

so scared to pick it up.

a burial service under the hedges–

“dear god, bless this bird

safe passage on your travels

freely in the sky

amen”

months later i still think of it.

i’ve looked for the bones more than thrice,

wanting to keep at least the skull,

for it was a profound day,

a profound time.

and even now as i wonder

if bird remains can go in a green bin,

there is this loss…

as light as a feather, but heavier than the dog i buried.

By Auriah Jordan-Smith