Esme – Greyhound Friend She rescued me when I rescued her

Today, Monday, is the last time – at 4:30 pm – that I’ll

Be able to say, “last week Esme was…”

My heart is a landslide of rubble, scary places, bad footing.

Now, this day, this minute a week ago I was lying next to her

I was taking her head in my hand, I was feeling her pulse

Her breath, her eyes on me. I felt her limbs be cold in an odd way.

I won’t forget that. I felt her warm belly. I felt her warm ears

And her cold nose and I thought and thought breathing with her

As I was, breathing without thinking of breath, or that thing that rhymes with it.

That point on the trajectory of each life that seeks level, that is level.

Everything else is up and down, hot and cold, short and long.

But death is a flat line. Death is a long time. Death is No More.

Today, Monday, it is 1:45pm. I didn’t know. I had no clue.

When I put her in my car she was breathing. It never occurred to me

She would stop. Or anything. Nothing much was occurring – and everything.

Halfway there I knew. I kept driving. But I knew.

And didn’t wouldn’t couldn’t know – no.

A week ago right now I had no clue. What a blessing.

Her life was a blessing. She blessed me. Her every move

Her looks – they were “come hither” and I did

I can’t bear to put a period with these sentences

Time will tell

Time is telling me

This is Monday, it is almost 2

I still have 2 ½ hours left

And I don’t even know it

Pam White

Esme

I was so engulfed in your death

So overcome with it – the grief, the sudden

Emptiness, goneness, I forgot to look

Through your eyes at the love

You always showed me, shared with me

I forgot to feel your heart, the expansiveness, the joy

Of your surrender. I forgot to see who

Was doing all that, who was really there.

It was just us. We two. And we

Are still, as long as I remember

To look through your eyes

Feel with your heart

Breathe, embrace with your spirit.

It always was the only way to go and

It remains so.

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