There was a dog my parents talked about
The neighbour’s dog,
And how when the neighbour died
The dog cried like a child.
They’d never seen anything like it.
He stayed all day at the cemetery
Lying on his owner’s grave
Or in the Sphinx position, guarding time.
He returned home for food and water
Then trundled back at night.
Whenever my parents told the story
My mother would say
Dogs have more heart than people.

As a boy I played
on the grounds of a convent

One day the sky turned green
wind ripped trees from the ground

I ran into the grotto of Mary
afraid of the wind
and the sword of lightning
that cracked above me

Then I fell asleep
under the statue
as though compelled

When I woke
the storm had passed
I was saved

The fragrance of roses was in the air
and tears from her eyes
wet my cheek

There are no records or photographs
but mourners lined blocks to visit.
Some waited hours
but couldn’t say
to whom they were paying respects,
almost as though the longer they waited,
the more a mass amnesia set in.

Conspiracy theorists
claimed the coffin was empty:
it was all a hoax,
to cover up a cover up
or rig an election,
but conspiracy is hardly the point.

Let’s say people
lined up to visit an empty coffin.
Shouldn’t we be weeping for that?

The shadow of a heron
Ripples over the waters.
If not for the wind
Its stillness would be magic.

The shadow of a hawk
Soars over the waters.
If not for the marsh
Its wings would separate.

A canoe on the marsh
Glides past the reeds.
If not for the oars
The sun couldn’t follow.

The marsh is a mirror.
The water is the sky.
If not for the moon
Humankind would drown.