The dog at the Funeral


The dog was unusually quiet,
in fact he was out of character.

As we prayed the rosary, he watched
us loop the beads without snapping
in his usual unholy manner.

My grandmother played the part of the corpse;
she wore an imitation silk shroud,
printed with the Holy Virgin on her chest,
her hands knotted with even more beads;

in fact, there were so many beads it hardly mattered
that the dog took some from the dresser
(which was posing as an altar);

he carried them away
and buried them with his bones.



* Fiona Donaghy lives in Norwich and is studying for a BA in English with Cultural studies: “my passion is poetry, I love writing, it is when I feel my most content.”