I shrugged off Its stronger offenses.
I found a trail, I searched for the Good,
Unknowing, let down my defenses.
Into my garden and over my wall,
The remnants of shadowy deeds.
Creeping under the mockingbird's call,
Frantically pulling at weeds.
At dusk, I buried her under a tree,
And left a small cross at Her head.
At dawn, I drank, as I was in grief,
Remem’bring She never was dead.
- December 15, 2015