Old Man and the Dog
The owners escaped to their cellar beneath
Safe from the storm and the damage it reeked.
Ducking from planks, wood, lath and plaster
All huddled together as they hid from disaster.
Pieces of wood -now lay broken and splintered
Last night it was home that everyone entered.
But tornadoes had hit it and ripped it apart
After ruin intrudes- the discoveries start.
They had rented their barn to a homeless old man,
Let him sleep in the hay -with his dog at his hand.
They gave him an address for receiving his mail,
Cost him most of his pension. He'd paid without fail.
The old man and the dog that lived in the back
Neither found shelter from nature's wicked attack.
No one remembered the odd pair that was there.
Yes, no one remembered -if they did -did they care?
Forgetting the old man -that was easy to do,
And one with a dog -made it easier to.
Old dog seldom barking -an old man with a snore
Both seemed to be zeros -and a pair to ignore.
They found the old man -he was dead in the heap
Of junk that fell on him while he was asleep.
And the dog there beside him -burrowed under his arm
She shivered in pain -for she'd not escaped harm.
Nobody knew how that dog had been tossed,
And miles from the man she found herself lost.
But wounded and tattered and battered by wind
She found her way back -and squeezed in by him.
She had dug through debris that was covering him,
Finding his chest -snuggled -and rested her chin.
His arm -as in life -now consoled her once more,
She lay there just waiting -the man-sound of his snore.
No one could tell her -explan that -"He's gone,"
And won't be returning -Does this story seem wrong?
But maybe tomorrow-and we all hope that day's near,
A new arm will enfold her -that she can lay near.
Copyright © Margaret Wade | Year Posted 2017
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