She struggled to sit,
bones shivering,
staggered—
A feeble growl
a warning, stay back.
I held her eyes—
black as shungite,
two mirrors of agony,
pleading.
I’d pray against needles,
a quiet, natural end.
I couldn’t—
She battled upright,
for one last exchange.
Her blackest pools
reflected death itself,
hurling an awl into my heart.
I knew.
It was time—
her—to go,
mine—to let her go.
Now,
no barks for a mailman,
a leash chimes on a hanger,
a tennis ball cornered in silence.
And I—
I still see her pain,
engraved in my eyelids.
Two mirrors—
death staring, haunting—
burned into me
like black ice.
© 2025 WolverineLily 🌺
Author’s Note:
It’s been years; time has moved on, yet this has never left me.
Wolverine Lily 