We gave our dogs a button to sniff¹，

    or a tissue， and they bounded off

    confident in their training，

    in the power of their senses

    to re-create the body，

    but after eighteen hours in rubble²

    where even steel was pulverized³

    they curled on themselves

    and stared up at us

    and in their soft huge eyes

    we saw mirrored the longing⁴ for death：

    then we had to beg a stranger

    to be a victim and crouch⁵

    behind a girder， and let the dogs

    discover him and tug⁶ him

    proudly， with suppressed yaps，

    back to Command and the rows

    of empty triage tables.

    But who will hide from us？

    Who will keep digging for us

    here in the cloud of ashes？