Veils, and Dogs

We wear veils
when our voice
doesn’t work

so much to say
it tumbles about
cluttering thought

the room is too small
the sentence too brief
nothing fits in easily
speech halts



Today the old dog
was put to sleep,
yes, death, she was
suffering too much
we couldn’t know clearly
but falling down stairs
pooping as she struggled
to walk across a room
but she was a hundred and one
and in just a few days changed.

The light went out instantly
warm stillness remaining
into the earth before it cooled
we cover our feelings
with shovels of clay
but cannot forget
her devotion
always protecting
her sheep, her back to us
looking outward,
The cats know.