10/09/2013
For the kittens

This day the third has gone, congealed like peas.
Mother readies the small grocery bag:
The dying kitten coughs its final wheeze,
I exit the house & light another ***.
Death has plagued this litter, and the world, too.
We're scarcely born than the struggle begins
To nurture those or what stand in death’s queue.
Mortality may result from immortal sins,  
But I’m no cleric, and loss occasion
For rabid lectures from a fired pulpit;
Nor do I welcome secular equation
On matters dear to the human spirit.

This morning we have lost another one.
I pray tomorrow death’s foul spell has gone.