Little Dog
When my dog does that thing
and she stares far off in space.
I wonder what she sees just then;
a ghost? a friend or foe.
Then she rolls her eyes that way
looks deep into my own.
I wonder if she reads my thoughts;
my soul, and what she sees.
Sometimes when she’s sleeping fast,
she yips and yelps and runs.
Her little feet they patter quick, tread softly on the air.
I wonder what she’s dreaming of — and what it is she sees.
A friend met in another life, a ghost, a mutt or me?
A rabbit? hen? or God.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
