It was one of those pleasant days.
He must be waiting for my presence,
Like he does every day.

The car stopped in front of his café with a screech.
I could smell the saltiness and chocolate along the breeze.

I didn’t think my heart would race so fast and speed.
I needed some time to calm it,
Before somebody noticed and ask me—
What was that, indeed.

The bell rang as I pushed the door,
Letting him know I was already inside the store.

He must have heard me somehow.
Before I even realized,
My hands were clutching his elbow.

He took me with some caution,
And led me to the table—
Even though he knows I’m totally capable.

He pulled the chair for me to sit,
Making a squeaking sound.
I smiled, imagining him
Making an annoyed face, hearing that every day around.

He rushed to the kitchen with some excuse,
Before I could finish saying, “Yes, please.”
There he was—already on his toes—
With my favourite brownie and milkshake.
He knows just how to get a smile from me.
Now my heart is really at stake.

He entertained me with dreams and daily stories,
While nudging me to eat some savouries.

I could feel how attentive he became
Whenever I asked or said something.
It made me more than happy—
To feel like I had my own space in his life,
As someone who truly mattered.

Time ran fast—
It was already half past.
He walked me to the door,
And told me to come again, more.

Once he disappeared to resume his day,
I took out my white cane to continue the rest of my way.

He’s unaware of the words I’ve been saving since we met.
I can’t confess them in just two lines—
That the days I’ve spent with him,
I’ve felt loved,
Strong, and blessed.

So let me savour the moment,
Until I gain the strength—
To never part,
And pursue him till the end.

your little bones could not outlast
the fevered fire that burned too fast
you died curled up against my thigh
for hours i didn’t know how to cry

you weren’t a god, you weren’t a guide
only fur, and warmth, and love inside
no words to give, no voice to lend
but still, you were my sweetest friend

i shared my wins in quiet light
you wagged your tail just right
you didn’t speak, but still you knew
my joy was yours, and yours was true

now some days pass without your name
and guilt arrives like quiet flame
but from above you lay upon my chest
a pitter-patter, small and blessed

you don’t stay long—you never do
you know to leave before i lose me too
like bubbles born in tender skies
you rise, you shine, then softly die

a bubble’s life is short and sweet
but still too long until we meet.

so when i cross that final line
i’ll bring you home one last time
you’ll squeal and jump into my lap
tucked in tight, ready for your nap

next time though, you’ll be here to stay
i know i’ll have bubble back some day

I had a green parakeet and Sparkle was his name.
When he died thirty-five years ago, it was a shame.
On the last day of April, I found him dead in his cage.
I bought him in 1981 and he died of old age.
My one parakeet outlived three blue parakeets that belonged to my mother.
Sparkle was my one and only parakeet, when he died, I did not buy another.
I owned my parakeet for over nine years and he was a great pet.
He died 35 years ago today and he was a bird who I'll never forget.

I’m left in static,
Unable to tune into anything
Without you on my frequency.
Days distort as I search
For the comfort
You always wanted me to find,
I keep looking for you
Just as you would reach for me
Keeping me in your orbit
With a glance of
Unflinching empathy.

There’s a piece of me missing,
A hole, only action and memory
Can move through.
You’re alive in my lifeblood,
You’ll touch everything I love;
A conduit of something
Beyond my understanding.
I’ll pour you into poetry
Break the fourth wall of mortality
To honour you and how much
I grew beside you.  

You cast your eyes over me
As I cut my teeth on words
Balancing my deadlines
And lifeline, bathed
In the resonance
Of the ebb and flow
Of our energy.

You were my arsenal
Of mutually assured affection
Watching over me as I slept
Through the hostility
Of a world warped through
Self-obsession and manipulation.

You taught me how to love
Unconditionally without anxiety
As you tore down my barricades
To saunter inside and find a home.
After appearing as a spectre of connection
We nurtured symbiotic salvation into fruition.
From a sick creature with nothing to offer
into the lifeforce you became
In the freedom of this space
Fated to echo hollow without you.

I’ll never forget what you gave me
The pain is confirmation
We’re still inseparable,
Beyond family, sentimentality
And material reality.

Through the shine of the window
As the sun teases the flesh of her hero,
She stretches upon the mattress,
Annoys him with her lapped kiss
All across the face, begging him to rise.

Here at her bowl,
She wags and waits for his control
As he gets, a scoop full of her favorite yummies,
How she salivates drools with an ache in her tummy
My girl, she devours within moments
And then she sits, waiting for the moment
I submit, those doe eyes looking up at me

We go, the backyard retreat.
She gives her red flying disc
And I throw to the distance, hitting the fence
She runs with a thunderous speed
And we repeat until we both take a tiresome seat
And through her panting and unrelenting breaths
I see her smile and know I am loved,
By my most precious pet.

She was three-legged
and fourteen,
which meant
brave by default.

We slept
spine to spine
every night that last year.
My body curved to match
the curve of hers—
like if I molded myself
into her shape,
she’d stay
a little longer.

Some nights
I’d cry
facing the wall.
I didn't want to disrupt her dreams,
her twitching and yowling
like she was running very fast
and free.

Even with three legs.
Even with the shaking.
Even with whatever was happening
inside her chest
that I couldn’t see
but felt
like a countdown—
each wheeze like the tick
of something winding down.

I made her a collar-like friendship bracelet.
It was that first Eras summer,
where I’d stay up late
with grainy livestreams,
and she’d sleep on my pillows
with her eyes open.

I tied it on her
before I knew
what I was preparing for—
red and magenta seed beads,
silver letters:
Roxy’s Version,
around her neck.

I wanted her
to have something
from me,
in case she got asked
who loved her
at the gate.

I wanted the answer
to be
obvious.

We brought her outside
so she could lie
in the dry, scratchy grass.
I laid leopard-print foam pillows
under her head.

I couldn’t stop the dying,
but I could
soften
the ground.
She rested like it was vacation.
Like we weren’t
practicing goodbye.

There’s a battered, rose-gold statue
of a Labrador, ten inches tall,
on our front step.
I spray-painted it years ago—
not knowing
I was making a witness.
The vet looked at it,
then followed us in.

We didn’t speak.
Just walked inside
like it was church,
like someone had already died.

And we sat on the couch—
her head in my lap.
Their voices:
soft, reverent.

I held her ear
between *******,
like it still led somewhere.

I told her
she was a good girl.
I wish I’d told her
she didn’t have to be.

I said,
“I love you.”
But what I meant was,
“Please stay.”
And what I thought was—
what if she wanted
just one more
terrible Tuesday?

What if the birds
were doing something today
that she needed to see?
What if the pain
wasn’t worse
than leaving?

I forgave her body
for failing.
But I still haven’t
forgiven the clock.

I’ve let whole seasons
happen
without telling her
how sorry
I still am.

From the upstairs window,
I watched them
carry her to their van
on a blue stretcher—
small,
almost toy-like.

I laughed when I saw it.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was all
too real,
too stupid,
too soft—
and I didn’t know
where to put the pain.

I watched my mom
and stepdad
hug in the driveway
like they were trying
to keep each other standing.

I hope she knows
I didn’t want
the last thing she saw
to be my tears,
so I gave her the sun.

I don’t know
if I said “I love you” out loud
while her breath
slowed.

She’s at peace.
But I’m still here—
crying in rooms
she used to follow me into.

I hope she knows
I keep her beads
near my bed.
I still wear it
some nights,
when I’m spine to spine
with nothing—
and it’s unbearable.

I hope she knows
she’s the reason
I ever believed
in unconditional anything.

I hope she knows
I made her a bracelet
before I made her a grave.

From a dog
who never asked me
to be perfect,
I still wait
for forgiveness.

I try to be good
for someone who always
believed I was.

She’d say,
“You did your best.”
And I’d say,
“I tried.”
I just wish
love didn’t hurt this much
when it ends
gently.

I turned my back,
ignored its pleas,
but found it,
staring back at me.

I tried to hide it,
beneath my bed,
in a wooden box,
with a wooden lid.

But it shook the floor,
rattled the pipes,
knocked the door,
and flicked the lights.

I tried to paint it—
the colours ran.
I tried to shape it—
the best I can.

But it returned.
Caught unaware,
so I sat it in—
a doctor's chair.

"Doctor, please,
I have this pain,
something that
I can't explain."

"Listen, sir,
all tests are done.
Clinically speaking,
there's nothing wrong."

So I locked my pain
in the trunk of my car,
and drove it down
to the nearest bar.

The bar was full—
of people like me,
hiding their pain
for all to see.

You’re not an old doggy yet
But I know eventually you’ll start to gray
I remember when we first brought you home
all you wanted to do was sleep and play
You were just 9 weeks old, so tiny but growing every day
Now your paws have gotten bigger,
and your zoomies fill the hall.
You are still chasing toys and wagging tails,
though you don’t seem quite as small.
You greet me every morning,
With those bright and loving eyes,
A loyal friend through all the years,
A bond that never dies.
One day your steps may slow a bit,
And silver may touch your face,
But no matter how the seasons change,
You’ll always have your place.

The snow is thawing on the field
its white perfection turning brown
as mud and sleet become congealed.
The snow is thawing on the field
and ochre footsteps are revealed
from Milley’s paw pads pressing down.
The snow is thawing on the field
its white perfection turning brown