Also

​I live where the deer walk on my roof.
  Thud, thud.
      Pitter, patter.
         Skitter and jump.

And where they bed down for the night behind my house,
    Their bodies creating circle presses of grass,
          Their hooves pressing hearts into the ground.
                 Their large ears and velvet eyes following me.

I also live where my dog
    Comes up over the hill
         Dragging the carcass
                 Of the little yearling doe
                       
That has been hanging around.

The one with the raggedy coat,
       And the big belly,
                 And the steady stare that doesn’t run
                        Fast enough.

I live where the coyotes yips wake me,
     Where the pups tumble and play,
                 And the adults trot through the pasture,
                       Paws sinking into the soft ground, noses searching.

I live where the night envelopes the owl hoots,
       The chorus of sundown yowls and barks,
                 My dog’s efforts to join the song.
​                         The hunters hunting.

I live where my dog crunches the bones 
      Of that little deer, 
                So gleefully enjoying 
                     The remnants of a life.

​And how can I love this when it breaks my heart?

When my fragility is tangled in the life and death

And what I love ends what I love?