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WITHOUT A BARK
How alone can a dead dog be…how alone I was watching myself die.
I wish I was euthanized to end the pain.
I wish I were housebroken and trained by a trainer who loved me
and with my very last breath I’d fetch the ball and retrieve its preemptive
heart to a hand who would always pat me and always say
good boy and never say goodbye.
How I know to never bite the hand that feeds me
or ever dream of doing so?
And then my worst nightmare where I collided with a derelict car
that ran rampant through my heart.
There was no fanfare just a dusty trunk and a trip to the city morgue,
But the show must go on ……………..
and the rehearsal never happened because it died with the last curtain call.
I never learned the lines of grief , but I finally found its voice that said
now and again I was just a Dog…………………………………………………….
Daniel William Concharty
A DOG IN MY HEART
Sharp words cut like a knife and dull themselves where they cry
and wait to die with a dog smitten by the side of a dark road
bitten by a bus for it was manslaughter for it was loved by my soul.
The steam piped through her nose and never continued but for
the trench of the police car.
The lights were spinning awakening her glory
and fated as the neighbors watched the death of her night
not knowing where she was going.
I died that night and the last breath of my soul died with her.
And so I went home stranded without a soul to hear how sad I was
and never forget the night my life stood still.
Daniel William Concharty is a poet and frequent contributor to Painted Brain News