WHEN OLD DOGS DIE

WHEN OLD DOGS DIE

By Tererai R Mafukidze

Sensing their own an end a stroll they take,

To the secluded bush and lie down to die.

Away from the eyes of the others.

Lonely, but dignified.

When old dogs die in the village, 

They deny others the spectacle of their weakness.

The homestead is not their final spot.

Away from others, they lie down to die.

Mbwa hora haihukuri nhando.

The old dog never barks at the moonlight.

The stench betrays their end,

After they are long gone. 

Leaving behind tales of their hunts.

The kudu brought down by the neck; 

The hyena challenged to a fight;

The leopard sent up the tallest tree. 

There is a lingering dignity in the way,

An old dog denies the village the spectacle of its own demise. 

When a roaring fire turns into impotent ash, 

No witnesses should be present. 

But old dogs in the city,

Fed pizza and macaroni,

Prefer another way to go. 

Blue roofs under blue skies. 

It is their choice. 

© Tererai R. Mafukidze