At forty-six, I'm told,
I should have been established
These twenty years past
In a steady job,
But for reasons
Both personal
And not
I can't seem to hold
A single position
For more than two years.
Today I was released
From the latest
And O! How it hurts!
How I loved this job,
Working in a place
Where my love of animals
And my abilities to empathize
And professionally converse
Came together
In sheer harmony.
But the powers-that-be
Declared that I was not
A good enough fit
And decided
To let me go
Upon closing on Friday.
I know the sun and moon
Will continue
To chase one another
Across the skies,
That life does not end
With the loss of one job,
But how I wish
I could depend upon myself
In the same way.