From the depths of the night,
I followed you, walking,
Down the path in the park.
A sparrow flies past me,
I am walking my miniature poodle,
Who I rescued from an animal shelter
In Jackson, Mississippi,
When I lived there with my uncle,
Who was dying from Alzheimer’s.
Sometimes, I could hear him crying
In his pillow,
Carrying on and on about the deforestation
About the dying, the crying,
The horrors he saw in Vietnam.
Instead, I melt slowly inside myself,
Until I am nothing but a shadow of myself,
Wishing for another heartbeat,
Wishing for the cold to enter me.
Wishing for someone other than myself.
I am gone. Just gone.