In All This Rain
—for Doktor Bruder,
the dachshund
Despite
what is written
about the rain
love is one element
that takes more sense
than any other
to know when
to come in out of.
It rains
sooner or later of course on
everything we bury
And burying a dog
is not
according to experts
supposed to be anything like
as painful
as burying your kin.
They say
think of it as sleep
in which the stars also
all go out at once
the stars that you know
are still up there
but just can’t see.
I stopped
a long time ago trying
to make sense
out of all this business
of giving up the ghost.
I find no consolation
in this brown fact
of your dying
which reminds me only
that no man
is any deader
than his dog.
I don’t believe
you’re better off.
Those of us looking up
can still see the stars
at least when it’s
not raining. We’ve kept
the box
of a house where you lived
49 years of a dog’s life.
I’d like you to know
that when I told Jim,
“Dok’s gone,”
he said,
“You mean he’s dead.”
And went over to the couch
where you used to sprawl.
And cried.
Later he said,
“Next dog
I want one that lasts.”
by John Stone
from In All This Rain
Louisiana State University Press, 1980