Ode to a Dying Dog

My love,

I need not ask your forgiveness.

You give it as freely

as I once gave you table scraps,

both our generosities ill-advised.

Yet

I still owe you a "sorry"—

one "sorry,"

an infinite "sorry"—

for if I had known my love would kill you

I am not sure that could have stemmed it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅