PS Cottier

No obituary

Presented to us in a terrier’s mouth,
he squirmed his way back into being
through a tight vice of punctures.

Dinny (the dog’s near dinner).
An experimental dish who charmed
with his monomania for grass.

Grass in and grass out,
pelleted, my weed and feed,
my murmuring mower of lawn.

Tonight we return him to grass
and precious green will sprout
from pink, once eager mouth.

No obituary for a guinea pig
that simple vegetarian of soul.
None, that it, save this.