For Sadie
By the back door
I find her chipped red bowl
Sunk into cold mud.
Cupping my hands, I hold gently
my last piece of her
I think she knew, that gray morning
Putting her nose on my lap to say goodbye – but I,
Distracted by jobs and chores,
Left her asleep on her frayed blanket
I returned too late and she was gone
A decade past, but I still cry
Dusty tears for yesterday
Yet when I lift my face
Through silver cracked clouds, I can glimpse her
Paw prints on heaven’s grass.
Her Legacy
She is not conflicted youth
Nor is she wisdom’s solace
Not untroubled virtue
Nor aloof neglect
She is not the condemned’s justice
Nor the penitent’s salvation
She is not barricaded faith
Nor is she candlelit belief
She is not invisible
Although she is unseen
She is not pity’s allurement
Nor is she pride, unshamed
She is but a cold gravestone’s
Crumbled, abandoned name
Michelle Faulkner is a prolific poet who has self-published quite a few poems, including the two above, on a site called PoetrySoup. She also recently had a poem published in Literary Yard, an online publication based in India.
Sparks of Calliope 