Monday, January 12, 2009

'For Zack'

There’s an empty place
where you were.

The magpie laughs at my confusion
as I habitually step over and around
your favourite spot, where you lay
all day, every day, untroubled
by the heavy foot traffic around you.

It wasn’t always that way;
You once were a great escape artist,
capable of opening gates with your great black snout,
of flipping the lid off the compost bins giving all your fellow canines free access to the trough.

You once were legend, delighting children
with your schoolyard visits, timed with the recess bell.

You once were the bear on the path
that sent skiers’ and cyclists’
hearts into their throats, adrenaline surging
in that moment before they recognized your domesticity.

And yet, you once had bones so heavy
and joints grinding, misaligned.

I dream that you have become bird,
bones hollow, movement unhindered

and you soar, finally having won
through infinite patience, release.

Rachel Westfall
January 12, 2009