[Dailydrool] poem from the magazine "Sun"

[BRYAN MARTINEZ]

In My Good Death

I will find myself waist deep in high summer grass. The humming

           shock of the golden light. And I will hear them before I see

Them and know right away who is bounding across the field to meet

           me. All my good dogs wil come then, their wet noses

bumping against my palms, their hot panting, their rough faithful

           tongues, their eyes young and shiny again. The wiry scruff of

their fur, the unspeakable softness of their bellies, their velvet ears

            against my cheeks. I will bend to them my face covered with

their kisses, my hands full of them. In the grass I will let them knock

            me down.


by Dalia Shevin