Wet nose
Burnt leg
He pulls at the leash to make him
journey on
Where is my bus?
Nervous energy fills this lonely
Yet busy air
My lungs sting
I just want to see his eyes
To hear his laugh
Why must it come with such fear?
Fear of never approaching
Fear of never reaching
Fear of never seeing that last stop
That some day I might call
Home.
- L.S
