'Elegy for a Dead Animal', by Susannah Cooke
I’m sitting on this beach
Thinking of the memories we made here.
I probably look rather stupid,
Sitting on this chair in formal attire,
With violinists and a linen table cloth.
I’ve got sand in my shoes and
My dress has got wet.
I am almost catching
My death with the chill.
It’s not long before the tide has turned.
Though I’m surrounded by people,
I’m lost without you.
I’ve been looking for you where I last saw you,
But you aren’t here anymore.