I buried it in the back yard
next to mothers cat
who had hardly any fur left
when she died, a mouse under her paw.

I chewed on that bone, marrow
dried up and cartridge stripped
by teeth, still smelling red and iron,
licking my lips for one last taste.

I took a lesson from the dog
and hid my treasure where I will join it,
sheltering from the oncoming fire 

rising from the desert,
seeking no home,
Scortching everything. 

My dog, buried next to my cat,
beside my bone, smells blood
and barks his warning,
Take cover, everything is red.