*
*
something out of place
drew my eye
that cold spring day
on the way to the recycle bin
pale orange on dark dirt
*
a cat it was, on its side
not resting, not breathing
pretty, young, dead
with a bloodied head
*
the manager said,
bag it and throw it out
this I could not do
with what was, once,
a life, lithe and warm
*
with sighs and quiet words
two neighbors helped
to bury it in the woods
under a small cairn
*
later, I marveled at the weight
of that stiff, soulless corpse
and wondered if my body
when dead, would weigh more
when empty of me
Tangled Magic 