Animals know
when its time to die
they say
and if they can escape
their living rooms
nested blankets
favorite toys
and devoted people
crying over
and nursing them
and make it down the stairs
and out the door
they will
and curl up
under a bush
in the front yard
with traffic
going by
not come
if called
disobedient
in the end
bent on
the time it is
the thing they must do
obeying
their own nature
over your wants
and needs
and demands on them
for once
throw open the front door
and the back door
in January
don't complain
put coats on
and clear a path
put it aside
give a pat
say travel well
help them out
onto the hard ground
under the sparrow-shit covered
forsythia
just shut up
and get out of
the way
take your wailing
somewhere else
don't make it
harder
be of goddamn
actual help
this is not
your show
this is not
yours
nothing you ever did
entitles you now
in the end
its their end
like you said
so many times
leave it.
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