A boy and his dog, a dog and his boy,
The dog, the boy’s, faithful/constant companion.
So it was natural that Puppy/Boy, first and foremost
wanted food for his emaciated, cloudy-eyed friend.
The boy needed food; he asked not for himself.
But . . . as intensely as I wanted to feed them both,
I had to say, I’m sorry, today's food is much too spicy.
Instantly a blank stare, froze Puppy/Boy’s face.
It shouted to me, as loudly as thunder on a hot day,
And as clearly as a bright sunny day after the rain.
You're not first to come "to help", yet fall short.
Then without another mumbling word, he turned and left,
His worn flip-flops sounds ringing, echoing in my ears.
I heard: Pop! Pop! Pop! As out the door Puppy/Boy went,
until, I heard those flip-flops, . . . no more.
Now, here I am, in my far away comfortable space,
After countless days, months, and years. Yet, memories
of that gaunt little boy, with the blank stare, haunts.
Daytime: thoughts are invaded, like someone passing by.
At night: my subconscious presents me Puppy/Boy’s face.
But more than that is my constant companion, the sound
of Puppy/Boy’s flip-flop’s: Pop! Pop! Pop!
My ears ringing, every hour, every day, never ending.
Copyright © Alfreda Williamson