They call it stroke.
Two we loved were stunned
by that same blow of cudgel
or axe to the brow.
Lost on the earth
they left our circle
broken.
One spent five months
falling from our grasp
mute, her grace, wit,
beauty erased.
Her green eyes gazed at us
as if asking, as if aware,
as if hers. One night
she slipped away;
machinery of mercy
brought her back
to die more slowly.
At long last
she escaped.
Our collie dog
fared better.
A lesser creature, she
had to spend only one day
drifting and reeling,
her brown eyes
beseeching. Then she
was tenderly lifted,
laid on a table,
praised, petted
and set free.
-Julie Alger
(Julie Hill Alger)
More Poetry from Julie Hill Alger:
Julie Hill Alger Poems based on Topics: Wit, Forgiveness, Beauty- Luna (Julie Hill Alger Poems)
- Marketplace Report (Julie Hill Alger Poems)
- Tuesday's Child (Julie Hill Alger Poems)
- Lesson 1 (Julie Hill Alger Poem)
- Opening the Geode (Julie Hill Alger Poem)
- Pictures of Home (Julie Hill Alger Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Beauty Poems, Forgiveness Poems, Wit PoemsBased on Keywords: night, loved, mute, grace, call, stroke, die, broken, spent, brow, grasp