Written by: Alfreda Williamson

A  boy and his dog, a dog and his boy,
The dog, the boy’s faithful/constant companion,
and secret co-conspirator in mischief,
keeper of the boy’s secrets, desires, dreams, fears, etc..
Naturally Puppy/Boy, first wanted food for
his emaciated, cloudy-eyed best friend.
My heart shattered for the both of them.
Even as the boy needed food, It wasn't for himsef that heasked.
But . . .as intensely as I wanted, to feed them both, with,
Love, and hugs and kisses, and encouragement,
I said to the little one, I’m very sorry to say,
That this food today, Is much too spicy. 
In less than an instant, a frozen, blank stare,
Came over Puppy/Boy’s face.
That stare said to me,
As loud as thunder on a hot August day,
And as clearly as the bright sun after the rain,
You are not the first, to come here,
To help, but . . .instead, fall, short,
You’re not.
Then without another mumbling word,
He turned and left,
With only the sound of his worn flip-flops, 
Ringing, echoing  in my ears.
I heard those flip-flops, Pop! Pop! Pop!
As out the door Puppy/Boy went, until,
I heard those flip-flops, No more.

Here I am, in my space, far away, comfortable,
healthy, after countless days, and months, and years.
The sight of that gaunt, little boy,
With the blank stare, haunts me, day and night.
When I’m awake, the sight invades my thoughts,
Like someone strolling by.
At night, my subconscious presents that face to me.
But more than that, Is my constant companion,
Of the sound of Puppy/Boy’s flip-flop’s, Pop! Pop! Pop!
Ringing in my ears, every hour, of every day,