<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div dir="auto" style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><p class="" style="margin: 1rem 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="overflow-wrap: break-word; font-style: normal;" class="">Vanishing</span></p><p class="" style="margin: 1rem 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap;"><em style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br class=""></em></p><p class="" style="margin: 1rem 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap;"><em style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">The grief and sense of loss we often interpret as a failure in our personality is actually a feeling of emptiness where a beautiful and strange otherness should have been encountered. - </em>Paul Shepard</p><p class="" style="margin: 1rem 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Heart, lungs and gut gone to the gnaw<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">of insects, the intact hull of her<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">beached on duff, prickly<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">oak and pine needles, coyote scat<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">in the crook of her knee --<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">the dog sniffs a small sharp hoof<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">ignoring the heap of dung <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">red with madrone berries, <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">pale pits pearling through. <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">She noses the foreleg<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">where scraps of hide cling to bone.<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Imagine the first flick of tail, <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">ripple of skin under summer flies, <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">and how this fawn died. <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">The woods are full of stories<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">in rotting trunks, cool shadows <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">and bones like these, whitened <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">by winters she hadn’t seen. <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">But what of her stays with me? <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Days later in my lumpy green chair <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">by the window, cat curved <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">around my feet on the ottoman,<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">the dog denned under the table,<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">teacup on the sill, and I think<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">of the fox -- its narrow bloated body<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">on the road, a plastic bag<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">snagged on its foot, ballooning <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">beside blood slicked fur.<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Will the silence of their absence rise<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">above the din of cities? Will their ghosts<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">stumble through strip malls and suburbs<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">looking for lost meadows, jostle <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">at the on-ramps distracting drivers <br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">with a sudden vague unease?<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class=""><br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Will our grief surprise us?<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" class="">Will we wonder at our loneliness?</p><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Elizabeth Herron</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><br class=""></div></div></body></html>