Rosalie purrs

And wants her fish.

‘It isn't cold,’

I say.

‘You'll have to wait.’

She does so,

Ill content.

The fish is there.

I seem to her

Not to care

That she is hungry.

How to explain

Her passing pain

As necessary,

Intended for

Her good?

The instant fish

Would burn.


Later I pray:

‘Please, may

I have this

Right away?’

But have to wait.

And do not understand.