For
the Best
I
remember the puppies
Writhing
in the sack
Eyes
stuck shut
Front
paws paddling
As
if they’d hit
Water
Already.
They
nuzzled the brick that accompanied them
As
if it were their
Mother
Cassie,
who paced
The
kitchen, her claws tick tick tick on the lino
Searching.
Searching.
I
listened. Listened.
On
the stairs, in my nightgown, chewing the end of my ponytail
It’s
for the best, he said.
My
mother, upstairs in her room, the lights off. The lights off.
Much
later,
Years
When
I was finally strong enough and taller than
He
phoned with the news that
The
doctors had switched off her machine.
Letting
her go.
I
had to decide, he said. You weren’t answering your phone, you never
visit.
It’s
for the best, he said.
It’s
for the best.
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