We Buried The Dog Poem by Seamus O' Brian

We buried the dog
at the base of the pine
recently toppled by a hurricane.

I remember her warm and floppy
in my arms at first, a wreath
of sobbing children afraid
to touch her, afraid to touch
death.We lit our candles

and buried her beneath
a tree I thought would
outlast me.How wrong
I am on so many counts.

But I do know enough
to cover the stiffness
of a beloved friend
in an old blanket; to hide it
from those to whom
life is still something
warm and comfortable.

I still hear children
chasing laughter around the trees
in the yard, still chasing
the morning end of time.

But the carpenter ants
are devouring the tree
from the inside out
and the worms, I suppose,
have taken care of the dog.


I've braced against a hurricane or two
and I still stand,
maybe not as straight;
the bark is a bit tattered;
the sap has hardened
and time is taking care
of me, too.

All i ask for is a wreath
of love and laughter
and for you to remember
that life is death,
and death is life.