The Deaths of Rats

Dying

he buried himself and waited.

Unlike the others who died

one quietly nursing surgery scars

one who tried to outrun it and was found on the living room floor come morning

left to rest in peace by 2 suddenly solemn cats holding vigil in their eyes

or the myriad who did not return from the small animal hospital.

This rat

named for a notoriously local poet gone global and quickly aging who can still make young women breathless from a distance
displayed his understanding of circumstance
and knowing that his next stop was a trash can in the winter cold of an apartment building basement garage
he dug himself in under wood chips and bedding holding onto his head which must have been aching right then like the white lightening pain that takes your breath away
and waited to go back to earth
watched as they came for him
these spectres of well loved rodents who ate out of hands and snuggled into shirt sleeves
a guinea pig gone less than 2 weeks before.

The rat was curled up with him
like a lover perched on the losing end
trying to stave off time.

Now his turn
and alone
he buried himself so that when we woke up
it seemed as though
he was already gone
because
he was.