Ratified to Go Beyond or Slip Away
Beside the trunk of the Golden Weeping Willow, the dog gnaws the king’s bones. / He wears away slowly and thoroughly the brittle bones. / He cracks a rib. / He splits the rib into shards and chews deliberately to soften the sharp edges. / He savors the flavor. / He wags his tail.
The king is still kind of alive. / The dying king still thinks he’ll survive. / He bargains anxiously with the dog. / He says: Let me live, and I’ll give you all the bones you can eat.”
Pedestrians walk the nearby path. / Joggers and couples and mothers with strollers circle the Commons and pass by the tree as the king makes his plea.
As if one gets their bones back after they’re eaten. / As if the king matters when his body is mush.
A poet sits on a bench and watches the scene unfold.
A poet writes a poem:
golden weeping geriatric dog companion willowy tree
And another:
canine twitching nose busker fingers guitar
And another:
clutter leaves narrow path dark sky worm stupor
A plaque near the trunk names the tree. / Salix alba ‘Tristis’ / Canis Lupus Familiaris / The dog has a name but not a plaque.