Life, Poetry, Writing

Good night, Clementine

Clem

We lost one of our guinea pigs the other day. She fell asleep and left her sister behind. I was the grave digger. Good night, Clementine.

Good night, Clementine

Pull the wet earth over you,
smooth the grass and mud out with tiny paws
Shuffle in beneath the darkness,
and hold onto that last, tired breath –
a shiver of light –
released.
Curl up beneath the roots and worms,
quietly,
fur smoothed by children’s hands,
and they will dream you
into another spring.

 

Copyright Maria Haskins 2016

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