Little Ghost Dog

Little ghost dog
Appearing out of nowhere
In the dark
Living room
Out of the side door
In the grey haze of light
From the back room window

The little ghost dog
Would I
Even remember you now
But for your ghost?
There was a half-told story
That the little white dog
Was mistreated and died

I was in the miner’s house
In Cannock
The father was dying
In the front room
That was hardly big enough
For his bed

Everywhere in that house
Tragedy collected
Hungry for suffering

The front door
Was hardly ever used
By the family
Went in and out
Of the back door
If you did
By chance
Happen to knock
On the front door
You would
Be strangely aware
You were knocking
On a dying man’s door

The family dog
A little white poodle
Was meant to be loved
Was meant for love
But instead
Like the master of the house
It died or it was killed
To become
The little ghost dog
That I saw that day
As I sat waiting alone
In the terrible gloom

7 thoughts on “Little Ghost Dog

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