Leave It

I heard them say leave it
and I knew what they were talking about,
because the owl or whatever it was
had been killed some days ago
and it left its downy feathers
spread like snow on the sandy path.
Dogs take these things without reflection.
Death is just something to nose at
or carry along
an unwanted wing gripped tightly in the teeth
until a better toy presents itself,
perhaps a tennis ball or a stick.
I try to be a dog,
but being only human, fail.

December 7 2018