Midnight

image by Justine Osborne.

 Midnight

“Poetry is all that is worth remembering in life.”

--William Hazlitt.

I remember being ten years old.

I remember we lived on on a small farm.

I remember a big stray dog that showed up

one morning.

I remember naming him Midnight

I remember what a loving companion he was

for me.

I remember we lived next door to a chicken

farm.

I remember the morning I found blood on the

dog’s muzzle.

I remember being told that during the night he

had killed thirty chickens.

I remember the neighbor demanding that we

destroy the dog.

I remember my step-father agreeing to it in

order to avoid paying money.

I remember digging a grave at the far end

of our field.

I remember the slow walk out to it, me with

the dog, Art with a rifle.

I remember being forced to order the dog to

jump into the hole.

I remember the trust on the dog’s face.

I remember the crack of the rifle.

I remember the dog’s head exploding.

I remember being told to bury him by myself.

I remember a torrent of tears.

I remember hating my step-father, and the world

for a month.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub