Holly

 HOLLY

            — a yellow labrador

One day you'll say your childhood 

dog’s name and it will sound 

a bit odd, flat, as if it 

were someone else’s pet 

who wandered its way 

like a hair into your mouth. 

You haven’t thought about her 

much the past few years, 

but still, you didn’t expect

she’d just disappear like that. 

The scary part isn’t that she’s gone—

you loved her, but it’s a given

dogs will run away, true 

to their nature. What haunts you, 

rather, is the crowd of other

constancies milling about your

house, the question of which

will slip out next if you forget 

and leave the door open, 

even just a crack. The girl lying

next to you? The name of your homeroom

teacher? The drive home, those turns

you know in your bones? And then 

what really troubles you is how  

you’ll go on living without them

around anymore, how you might

even do just fine at it.