I can see the glow cast off from your pupils

behind the reflection in the mirror of

my own puffy and bloodshot eyes.

I’ll never expect to find who left you out on that

cold March night, but I can’t guarantee I’ll hold my

tongue if we do cross paths.

Your dirty feet and ashtray aroma didn’t stop

me from crawling underneath that white

truck and talking you into coming close to me

so I could take you under my wing.

Seeing, you perched on my arm as we drove up Martins and onto Claytons, you

watched your whole world pass you by and the

glow in your eyes flickered again.

You weighed less than air

but when your whiskers dipped into the water dish

and food bowl, I had hope.

I couldn’t tell how long it’s been since I felt hopeful,

especially not in a muted calico

It was 6:34 when ma woke

me up to tell me you were close to taking

a final braeth.

The cold tile floor became my bed as I laid

with you and tried to keep your ribs warm, my fingers fit in between each one.

They felt like a child’s xylophone

except with soft grey and light orange fur coating it.

Holding your little, dirty paws

became the only thing that mattered in my life.

I pleaded for you to stay a little longer but it didn’t matter.

Your dark green eyes teared up and you reached out

to me to hold you tighter.

Your death rattle shook me to my

very soul and scared me enough to leave your side.

I remained in my bed,

shaking violently with guilt and crying over my selfish ways.

I hope I dug your grave deep enough for the rain

to not touch you or unearth you, since

I’d hate to see you again.

I try and keep in mind how blessed you must’ve

felt when I stopped and brought you into my home

and the time I spent trying to get

to know you and how we both enjoyed each other's presence.

I’m glad you were loved in the five days I knew you.

all beings deserve a warm bed before