*

*

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