Tears for a dead puppy

I see a dead puppy.
Crushed, upon the road.
Hit by a speeding car..
Or van, or bus….

I continue to cross the road.
My face does not change
Except that the smile that I usually have
Has been wiped off.
The usual humming on my lips
Is stilled.
Oh, yes, my tears flow..
But not from my eyes.
They drip down into my soul
And heart. I feel
The fleeting nature of life;
The eternal presence of death.
I wonder why the little puppy was born
If it was only to die so soon.

My eyes are as blank and unseeing
As that dead puppy on the road
Whose sight, fixed on Eternity
Drags me too, to the unfathomable
Mystery of what is, and is not.

There are tears..
But only I can feel them.
Tomorrow, the puppy will be gone…
And so, too, my tears of today
As I carry on with life,
Putting off pondering on death
To the next time I see it before me.

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