Tuesday, April 5, 2022


image by Justine Osborne.


“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


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


Sanaa Rizvi said...

Oh this is incredibly heart-wrenching, Glenn. The use of repetition here is powerful in taking us down the memory lane with you.

Christine said...

Oh, wow, I am so sorry! I can feel the pain that has stayed with you all this time. Pain like that doesn't go away.

Jenna said...

Oh, that is horrific!

Merril D. Smith said...

Oh, this is so awful. I am so sorry. I think I would have still have nightmares about this--I might anyway just from reading about this.

Gillena Cox said...

A sad tale. Ah but such memories do cling.


Mish said...

I am going to assume this is not fiction. A disturbing story to have lived through. The worst part is having to endure more of that icy heart. No one does something like that with love in their heart. Sending you a hug for reliving it through this brilliantly written piece.

Linda Lee Lyberg said...

What bravery it took for you to revisit this horrible memory. I cry tears for both you and the dog.

brudberg said...

How devastating... this way to see that trust in the eyes must have lingered a long time.
Life was different back then, I remember my mother telling me of the summer (during the war) when they had rabbits to play with... but when winter came the little rabbits had turned to fur coats for her and her sister.

JadeLi said...

Glenn, you used the repetition to draw the reader into story and by the end we were there beside you, distraught and raging at a world that is often too cruel for words. These are the horror stories that we remember and that shape our character. {{{{HUGS}}}}

sarah said...

The remembers led us deeper and deeper into taht awful story. I feel so sorry for that small boy - what a cruel, cruel thing to do to a child.

Kerfe said...

Only a month? You are much more forgiving than I am.
I'm so sorry Glenn.

lillianthehomepoet.wordpress.com said...

Oh Glenn......I am so late to the reading and even later to putting my post, which was written on time, into Mr. Linky today! And now I read this....I can't even imagine. Memories from childhood....scars from childhood do not need to be physical and, sadly, we carry them with us for a long time. Consider yourself hugged my dVErse friend.

NanaSwanberg said...

I am so sorry for this experience. You are way more forgiving than I could ever be.

purplepeninportland.com said...

That is an act I could never forgive. I feel tears welling as I read this.