Sonnet #47

The first that lives forever will be not me

or you, or any one of homo sapien

We try things out in rodents, monkeys

There will be immortal capuchin

Ten thousand years from now the dog

Will pass down, in families, bleary-eyed

Forgetful creature, living in a fog

of smells familiar, memories all keyed

unto the dawn of time, no truth spun

Which memory is real, a bowl of food

A bowl of water, a field in which to run

Friends, all vaguely known, a boy that's good

Ten thousand years, or more, the rat

The dog, the monkeys and apes, the cat