Tuesday, November 12, 2013

The Next Salvation

I want to tell you about the time 
   I, as a child, rode a palomino bareback 
   at a hippy commune, and it ran wild 
   toward a closed gate that it would have 
   jumped, but for the heroics of a naked   
   guy on a chestnut gelding.
I want to tell you about my family's first dog, 
   adopted at the cusp of my teen years,
   with whom I took long walks and 
   had endless soul-baring talks, until 
   she was given away.
I want to tell you about my gray hamster, 
   whose curiosity got the best of him    
   when he escaped his cage once 
   too often, and came face to face 
   with the cat on duty.
I want to tell you about one of my goldfish, 
   who lived seven years in a bowl 
   I wish I'd changed more often, and 
   for whom my grandfather cared 
   after I left for college.
I want to tell you about three of my most-beloved 
   cats, and how--after 14 years--
   my heart shatters 
   a little every day because 
   I had to leave them behind 
   to escape a life-threatening situation.
I want to tell you about one of life's 
   true miracles, which flows in 
   through the cracks and crevices in 
   the walls I've built around my heart, 
   softens the edges of past losses, 
   takes my hand, and leads me--its
   willing victim--toward the next 
   beloved, the next heartbreak, 
   the next salvation.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six