how bright their frail deeds
her morning 'chirp' is gone. her claw-clicks on the hardwood floor are gone. her tongue rasping my fingers in her fur, gone. her belly-up-on-the-carpet teasing is gone. moments after they take her away, a towel-wrapped lump, a furious wind rips her toys, her box, and her food from the house. they're dumped at the animal shelter, that place full of not-hers who stole her eyes.