Her smile haunts my dreams.

When told to stay, she came;

when told to stop,

she would turn toward you,

and let you know, that yes;

she will save you.

She never cried,

knew when to stand her ground,

and knew when to move

to another place,

nearer to me.

There was never a one

whose bravery was shown

in a more concise and miraculous way.

She was proud,

yet humble.

Quiet, but could startle me

with the depth of her voice.

She never cried,

even when the cancer

was everywhere.

I thought she had

a sprained ankle,

but the vet, fresh out of school,

came in with tears,

holding the thin film

in her hand.

Her lungs were filled

with a vileness brought on

by years with smokers,

hacks, and bums.

I don’t believe in “rainbow bridges”

and the term irritates me.

Mango was love.

She was pure, sweet,

love.

What a gift.

What a priceless,

tender, gift.