This poem is written from the perspective of my daughter, Laura (then 9), who lost her special duck Wingers to marauding dogs. Other beloved creatures succumbed, like her kitten, Diamond. Laura and I somberly buried each in the garden, resting them on beds of green grass, and covering them with loosely sprinkled rose petals. Each funeral was tender, both sad and sweet.
SPRINKLED WITH ROSE PETALS
Wingers was my special duck.
I raised her from a day-old chick.
But she died when the neighbor’s dogs roved over
In the middle of the night.
Diamond was my precious kitten.
I watched her being born.
I stroked her fur when she lay sick.
I gently stroked her fur.
I found a yellow-breasted song bird:
Her feathers scattered on the grass;
Her wings stretched out;
Her beak upturned, eyes staring at the sky.
I laid them all in garden graves,
On beds of soft, cool grass,
Wrapped in soft, white cloth.
I sprinkled them with rose petals,
Red and pink and white.
Rabbit Lane 
It is one of Gods greatest and rewarding gifts to have compassion and love and tenderness for the loss of His creatures . Not only human lives but the lives of critters as well. There may be some who scoff or make fun of folks who show compassion for critters ,who send them on their way across the rainbow bridge. But it has been said … something like..”.All Gods creatures great and small ,our Lord God loves them all” …St. Francis ?
I’m sure Laura will remember that experience of compassion and kindness that you taught her as well as others who may have been present as well for all the days of her / their lives .
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Thanks, Harvey, for reading and commenting. I always appreciate your insights and perspectives, which are always profound.
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Harv is right, in that compassion and love and tenderness are important on the part of the mourner. However, what caught my thoughts was the other perspective, that of the yellow breasted songbird. I pray that regardless of the circumstances of life, even those that may cause peril and loss, that I may also be capable of stretching my wings, my beak upturned, my eyes staring at the sky.
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Thanks, Paul. I always value your perspective. You have a way of making my poems deeper than when originally written. When I leave this world, I hope to go with my gaze fixed firmly on the next, and with my wings in open flight.
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