Call For Help

Howling jolts me awake Brings me to my feet Opening my ears Sprinting down the gravelly street. I can feel it's grief and hear it's trembling whimpering. But I can't see it's slanting grin I can't stroke its slathered pearly coat Or coax its troubling fears, wrench them off its snowy, pilose skin. Zigzagging around the sprucely sheathed trees, Panting, secreting oppressively. Wildly glaring around like a banshee. Falling to your knees, punching the sky pathetically. You are late and tardy Gazing upon its lifeless body You can't see it's slanting grin Only fondle it's gnawed bones And painfully watch it's spirit and soul disembody.