The Little White Dog

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Below is the poem entitled The Little White Dog which was written by poet Christine Phillips. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Little White Dog

I just got out of the sizzling heat
with sweat running under my feet
I was too anxious to stand 
so I took refuge in the sand
I squat on top of the heightened rock
 with "what happened" in my hand 
and just as I was about to open the book
A little white dog ran up the hill 
and looked at me with a grin
I wonder if this was a coincident or a game
I even thought I was going insane
but just as I thought of it 
a great burden  immediately lifted off my head
The little white dog stood  at the foot of the tree
occasionally looking around at me
I looked around for its owner but
they were on the other side 
stooping on the ground 
while the little white dog was busy  running around
The little white dog was as merry as can be
It was real like you and me
I still don't know what this was all about
the same thing happen two times in a row
The mysterious reindeer disappeared but
the little white dog is physically here
only that it didn't stare
There is a greater meaning in this
I just don't know where it fits
Is someone reading my mind
the little white dog and the book  are so divine
they really made me take a closer look
The sound of traffic echoed across the street
And I could feel my delicate heart beat
There is nothing spectacular about autumn in this area
The trees are still green but dry leaves are falling 
And I could feel my soul anchored deeply within
I just don't know where to begin
The little white dog has paved the way
she is standing on the rock
looking at the clock
 tick tack.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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