Reactions To The Death Of My Dog Poem by saranyan bee

I lift my black-shell specs
off the nose bridge,
index finger holds it over my brows,
as if my forehead where my brain,
my consciousnesses is
know for certain;
fresh air cools hidden portions of eye-sockets.
I see the dog is dead
for his tongue is out
the snout dry, eyes haven’t closed
for a while.

the glass on the table is empty,
stinks of the milk gone sour,
sticky, finger prints are all-over
from the sweat of my palm,
I have no way to know if he was sad,
wanted to live
or said enough,
level of my sadness will hinge
on his thoughts
while he died,

my wonderful dog
at my feet, I draw picture
of a black cat on the napkin
with resignation of a creature
left breathless in his sleep,
cat has been left with white eyes,
I wipe my tears, blow my nose
and say, ‘my dog is dead.’