Under the banana grove
The hound exploded
Pieces of him flew in every direction
He didn't have time to yelp or reflect
He was a great dog we shared admiration and love
We spent countless afternoons looking at each other
I would take him on long walks and runs even in bad weather
We were troublemakers and adventurers together
Now he was separated into pieces of bloody meat
Soon vultures would be dining, his flesh to eat
So I piled him up and dug a hole tears flying off me
Then sat back down to my mourning coffee
What would I do with his remains? How would memory last?
Would I just shovel pieces of him in the ground as compost?
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