Poem 13

My dog sees the body first,

Barking the alert,

Barking the alarm.

A girl? a boy?

Bony, young, small,

head pillowed against the wall,

Body cradled by the earth,

Body cushioned by dew and grass.

A thin mattress of clover.

Grey sweatshirt pulled overhead,

No socks, ripped sneakers,

A knife handle poking from a pocket, like a morning erection.

No breath.

I wait for breath.

Breathe.

Please, breathe.

A daddy long legs stumbles over the face,

Touching what I can not.

Not a twitch, but then the ribs rise and fall.

My work here is done.