A poem, the story of a puppy my sister found in an alley by a homeless shelter.
The Dog with Four Incisors
Bitter January wind
Speeding Mercedes at arm's length
Rubbish clutters the gutters
Betwixt the buildings he observes keenly
Young, beautiful, cheerful, and kind they strode these girls
Tiny, thin, rusty and hungry he knew they were different
Ears low, tail down, and eyes wide he stalked them
No name, No collar, No chip. In her arms she smelled that he was clean
"Is this your dog?" they asked of the tramps and bums
"No but we will feed him. Got any small change?!"
The flimsy grift shattered on the pavement and the pieces blew away
The girls too him home
The caring posters lost in the pile of urban marketing, neon, and LED
A collar, A leash, A bite to eat
A blanket, A bed, water and fed
A little bit of love goes a long way
Now half a dozen people search for his home.
"I don't eat much, I'm quiet as a mouse, I'm perfectly behaved....but I won't get off your couch."
He sleeps in a ball
Three weeks ago he didn't have a place to nap
Today he has a place in a dozen homes
You're alright kid
Good Luck 'Small Change'
C. Evan Thompson 2/7/15