Dust to Dust

I am looking out my dining room window, overlooking the birdbath in the small garden of my flat. The arum lilies have added a new bloom—just as the last one is dying off—beside the grave marker of my pet: not just any dog, but my trusty emotional support animal. A black bird takes an early morning bath in the yet icy-cold water, while another waits impatiently for its turn. the arum lilies are exceptionally showy this year— the etymology of my name captured by the S f U l Z o E w T e T r E s it’s five months since his passing emotions plumose …