My guinea pig, flower, died.
I was six.
This was the first time
I encountered death and,
I didn't understand why he,
yes flower was a he,
was sleeping on his back
tiny legs stuck in the air.
I held the dead rodent and,
tried to force feed him carrots,
his favorite, treat.

If only we all could leave
so quietly-
Without fear of what's to
come-
If we could go through
life without knowing
that it's all temporary

My mom came in, screamed
took him away and made me
wash the death from my hands.
I wasn't sad about flower,
I only asked if he could
have carrots in heaven?