to give up grief
is to give up love,
and though I would like
to peel off the skin
of this searing pain
and find new skin
underneath,
would I be peeling away
the memories, too?
would I retract days spent,
side-by-side, thick as thieves,
the way your eyes followed me
as I walked across the room,
the way you would sigh
as you snuggled into my side,
the way your golden-brown eyes
peered into mine
as if I were the only human on earth,
the way your ears and tail would lift
every time I spoke your name;
the way you owned the sidewalk
when we took to the great outdoors,
the way you’d come running for treats,
the way you loved me with all your soul;
for someone to say you were “just a dog,”
only means they never had that kind of love
or that kind of loss.