Your Dog Dies

it gets run over by a van
you find it at the side of the road
and bury it.
you feel bad about it
you feel bad personally,
but you feel bad for your daughter
because it was her pet,
and she loved it so.
she used to croon to it
and let it sleep in her bed.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your daughter,
about a dog getting run over by a van
and how you looked after the dog afterwards,
took it out in the woods
and buried it deep, deep
and that poem turns out so good
you're almost glad the little dog
was run over, or else you you'd never
have written that good poem.
then you sit down to write
a poem about writing a poem
about the death of the dog
but while you're writing you
hear a woman scream
your name, your first name,
both syllables,
and your heart stops.
after a minute you continue writing.
she screams again.
you wonder how long this can go on.

 

--Raymond Carver