No Use Crying Over a Dead Squirrel

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No Use Crying Over a Dead Squirrel

That child they pulled 

from my arms today

is surely not the baby I held 

here, in this park, 

that April or was it May ago…


Remember? When you were still here?


Out of everything I’ve cried over

these past two years give or take

Today was the first time it was the look you gave me—shovel held high— right before you put

that maimed squirrel out of her misery.  

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