Puppy-Boy

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.