the last walk II

the old man
pulled the car up the dirt driveway
and saw murf laying in the grass – oddly still
“damn it”
he said softly
“no” he said quieter
he left his things on the car seat
and the door – he left open
taking it all in now
he walked toward his favorite
‘no, no, no, murf, aw, no, not now’
each step made the reality
more true
he wasn’t thinking about holding back
his collecting tears, like he would
for any other reason
they welled too fast and fell too heavy
it seemed his tears were crying tears
as he came up
to where the grass bowls
he looked at murf’s peaceful face,
blowing in the
breeze april evenings give
once his knees
hit the ground
he was letting it out
a young girl jogging, saw him there
as she passed on her route
holding murf in his arms
the old man’s life
was in a difficult place
the timing couldn’t have been worse
he sobbed and sobbed
only saying
“damn it”
he caught his breath
when he heard sarah
from inside the house call “hey mummy?”
that would have to be enough
murf was heavy
he carried him past the fence
past the little barn
and over to the new stone wall
he placed him down beside the stump
a place they’d sit together
when working out in the yard too long
it took him one hour and forty minutes
to dig
the sun was just about down
the last of the bees were heading home
and the grasshoppers where just coming out
sitting on the stump, staring at his dirt
he could feel his friend was gone
but he still wanted so badly
to go inside the house with murf
he sat with his chin in his hand
and had a steady cry
with only moments
when you could hear him
from inside the house