On our morning walk
Jack The Dog stuck his long snout
inside a gopher hole
as he has done many times before,
but lo and behold on this day
it was delivered unto him
a gopher,
who promptly bit him
in an attempt to save his life.
Jack got him in his mouth with a fast snap
and then with a lightning quick flick of his head
and then with a lightning quick flick of his head
sent the gopher flying through the air
landing 10 feet from his hole.
Jack seemed stunned.
The gopher lay dying,
his dark glassy eye
gazing towards the heavens -
the light he’d been told not to go in to,
his chest heaving
until we watched him
take one last large breath
and lay still forever.
And there we were, staring, quietly,
and I noticed I was looking into his eye,
watching death come and life leave
this tiny creature who never saw it coming
until it was too late.
Jack The Dog:
Taker of Life,
Darwinian Pack Thinner,
The Grim Reaper of Gophers.
As Jack and I
stood over the little gone gopher
Jack looked at me as if to say, “Can I have it?”
I said, “Don’t even think about it, murderer.”
Just then
coming up behind us on the park path,
I heard two women
on their morning walk:
“Spling Bake! Spling Bake!
No sku today!”
said the elderly Japanese woman
shuffling along in a brilliant pair of pink Nikes.
“Ahhhh, no sku,” said the elderly Indian woman
in a fashionable sari
of beautiful colors
and snappy blue walking shoes.
Two women with no common language
practicing their English on each other
had just missed a lesson
on the Great Circle of Life.
They looked at us to see what we were doing.
I wanted to tell them
they were interrupting a funeral,
but I didn’t think they’d get it.
Ken Owen Van Niddy Press April 2014
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