Schrodinger's Box
by Bradley Earle Hoge

It wasn't in the time it took me
to reach the roadside where I found his body.
It wasn't during the time it took
to carry him to my truck, or the drive
home to explain to my wife what happened.
It wasn't in the days that followed --
it was in that instant. From the moment
he darted away from the spot I'd trained
him to wait for me. From the instant he
saw the bike's reflector across the street --
there is no death inside Schrodinger's box,
it is in the instant it opens. In that instant,
standing in that empty spot, before
I could move, I knew I'd lost him.

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