On First Understand that Everything I Love Will Die

Updated: Oct 31, 2019

My mother in the kitchen, me

on the floor in the doorway

of this new house,

no furniture yet

most of the cabinets empty,

the closets empty.


Today it’s just my mother

and me and the dog.

My mother is crying and I

am only two but somehow

I know why and for once

it isn’t about my father.


Our dog is dying.


My mother slathers white bread

with mayo and hands me

a fried bologna sandwich.


She gives one to the dog, too.


*First Published in The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

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