Rosie

Cars

The sun
beats down tirelessly
upon the young dog's back,
strong
as flame,
hot
as coals.
She lives out here,
the barren lands
drifting about,
for miles.
The road,
curved about
as it leads
towards nothing
but space.
She is alone,
chained to a post,
by the side of the
road.
Cars come,
and go.
But nobody stops for her,
She isn't
their dog.
Their dog
is safe
at home.
Their dog,
is not alone,
heart broken

Life

Some days,
by the side of the road,
tied to a crinkled
garbage can,
which sits next to
a one-way road sign,
Rosie wonders
about life.

Life,
as she has come to know,
hits you hard,
and when it does,
nothing really
changes.
You could lose
everything,
in a matter of
seconds.
And nothing really
changes.

Human

Rosie's human
never came back
from the darkness.
Rosie's human,
emotions twisted
deep inside
let precious time
float by.
Rosie's human,
who caused pain and ruin
in the emptiness of
grief.
Rosie's human,
who's dog once loved him.
And would still,
forgive
for him.

Rosie's human,
is long gone.
Rosie's human,
and his dark-tinted
car,
with peeled cyan paint
that blows softly,
in the wind.
Rosie
has nobody to turn to
but herself.

Ditch

Rosie digs a ditch,
her stubby tail no longer
wagging.
Rosie's ditch
is six feet long,
and two feet deep.
Rosie shelters
in this spot.
For day
after day,
after day.
Hungry,
desperate,
dying.

Rain

Rosie lifts
her broad black head,
the rain gently
drumming,
beating down
tirelessly
upon her wrinkled
nose.
Rosie's human,
used to let her out
in the wet,
and dry her off
rapidly
with a
coffee-stained
towel,
the color of grass.
Rosie's human,
used to be a kind
man.
Rosie's human,
lost so much.
Rosie's human,
changed.

Hunger

The rain stops.
Rosie does too.
Her breathing slowing,
as hunger
fills her heart.
Hunger,
is a tricky thing.
Tough as nails,
weak as cobwebs.
Rosie's hunger,
is inside.
Deep
inside.
Rosie's hunger,
is real,
and not.
Rosie's hunger,
gnaws at her stomach,
like acid,
like fangs,
like everything that
ever hurt.
Like humans.
Everyone,
is hungry
chained
and broken
and tangled.

Dreams

Thunder
rumbles softly,
Rosie,
whines
softly.
Why is it
that the hardest things in
life,
are also the easiest,
and most important
of all?

Rough,
barking,
howling.
Pain.
Sharp brown boots.
Voices echoing inside.
A soft,
tongue,
rasping fur.
Eyes that reflect the moon,
pointed ears.
Spirit.
Spirit of Dog.
Wolf.
Darkness.

Thirst

Rosie's tongue,
is as dry
as
ash
hot as sweat.
Cars speed by,
speaking their language
of speed.
The road,
is so close,
yet so far.
Freedom,
is just a step
away.

Van

The van
is large and white,
it pulls up slowly,
the driver
hidden from view.
Rosie,
doesn't know,
who they are
or what
they want.
All she knows,
is human
and danger.
And that is enough.

Eyes

The woman's eyes,
are soft, yet strong.
Distant, yet close.
Rosie,
doesn't see this.
All she sees,
is human,
and creature
and strength.

Pole

Smooth,
dark fingers,
reach for the road sign
and the chain
attached to its pole.
Rosie growls,
fear turning her
heart
to ice.
Caring fingers
lift the chain
over the bent
pole.
Sharp,
fingers vibrate softly through the rope.
Danger.
Rosie stares,
into the eyes
of human
and glimpses
resilience
and fear
and understanding
and she runs.

Road

Wind
blurring
vision darkening.
Hot, scalding pain
a yelp,
Is it Rosie?
Car Creature,
fast and strong and furious,
pain.
Hot, scalding pain.
Bright.

Light

Pain
gone
light
as bright
as the sun.
Spirit floating,
free amongst
clouds.
Where she's supposed to be.
Dog
greeting
tail wagging,
Floating,
growing,
feeling,
rising,
high above the clouds.
Connected,
through dark paws,
to earth.
Joining
with
Spirit
of
Wolf.