Circle of Day, Circle of Night

Sleep

I line the hole with her beloved

blue circular bed,

then place her there,

curled up, still somewhat warm,

soft. I close her eyes,

pulling down those light brown

eyelids. From somewhere,

I swear, she's watching me.

And she understands.

I throw dirt in the hole, starting

at the tail, trying to cover

with soft dirt as a blanket

over her body, then

the rocks on top.

At sunset even the birds

are quiet. Later tonight,

owls may hoot,

coyotes may howl.

Soul aloft,

body at rest.

Sleep in earth.