Enemy of Entropy

The Geek Who Understands You

Poetry: Jane Kenyon

The Blue Bowl
by Jane Kenyon

Like prim­i­tives we buried the cat
with his bowl. Bare-​​handed
we scraped sand and gravel
back into the hole.
                               They fell with a hiss
and thud on his side,
on his long red fur, the white feath­ers
between his toes, and his
long, not to say aquiline, nose.

We stood and brushed each other off.
There are sor­rows keener than these.

Silent the rest of the day, we worked,
ate, stared, and slept. It stormed
all night; now it clears, and a robin
bur­bles from a drip­ping bush
like the neigh­bor who means well
but always says the wrong thing.

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1 Comment

  1. Very touch­ing — thanks for sharing :)

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