Quiet death,

And I, sitting, by her initial disbelief

Blood death, dog death,

Her dog dead, by hunter’s shot

Here, so close to town,

He was swinging his rifle

Swinging it down

To level ground

Fawn terror,

Wild ducks in frantic flight.

Full of  life, Freckles

Dragging herself there

Falling, finally

Before her door,

Where inside we were

Engaged in rapport.

And she knew, my sister,

The second she saw her dog lying before her,

Her beloved dog would die that day,

In this tragic way.

With tender touches

To still warm face and fur

Blood clotting the underside

Where we could not easily see

This fact, the hunter’s act,

She sat, aching,

Tears streaming down her shaking

Sorrow.

Early evening finally falling

All shades of autumn leaves,

Mountains also behind the trees.

When I depart

Freckles, still,

In the same place she had fallen.

My sister,

 And her lover,

Across the drive

Digging purposefully, into earth, under once-green grasses,

With a tenderness seen, between,

Two beautiful women, together in life, side by side

And death not just dreamed.

© Susan Gesmer,

Around Us Was A Sharp Bright 6:00 October Light, 1981