by Stacey V. Clark
Here she comes again, the lady that smiles.
I’ve been here for many days and people come and go
But only she has the time to stop for a while.
She says words in a tender voice that I don’t know.
She scratches behind my ear and laughs sadly.
That is what I do not understand.
If I knew what made her sad I’d chase it away gladly
But all I can do is tell her the best way I can
That I care, so I wag my tail and prick my ears.
I think she is sad for me, being behind these bars.
Doesn’t she know that I am better off here?
There is no hunger, or mean people or cars.
None of the uncertainty or the constant fears.
I vaguely recall when I had a home and a name.
I think it was Major, but it was long ago
Maybe it was months or years, it’s all the same,
When people dropped me off in a place I didn’t know.
I always look for the lady, hoping today she’ll show.
Today she talks to me so sweetly and laughs so sadly.
She talks something about promises and homes.
I woof gently, wanting to ease her sadness so badly.
She says, “Foster homes are just too few and far between
And I’ve done everything I can” and she sheds a tear.
She says many things, but I don’t understand what they mean.
How do I make her understand that I am safe here?
She hugs my neck and turns to walk away.
Her sadness is strong as she leaves from my pen.
I whine and I cry, “I’ll love you – just stay”.
She kneels and whispers, “I’ll see you at the bridge my friend”.
She knew all along, what I did not understand,
And now I know why I couldn’t make the sadness end.