Fiction

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The Stray
He walked along the street tail hanging in defeat
Limping now as his pads grow raw upon his feet.
Mournful eyes now so despised
Remembering times long ago
When he was loved why it ended he doesn't know.

Harsh words greet him now and kicks and scowls
No tender touch upon his brow.
Ribs pushing against his sides and hunger knaws deep inside
There is no home no tender touch and there is no where to hide.

He laid there upon the bench devoid of hope of any dreams
His eyes stared with vacancy as tears on his cheeks did stream.
He'd had a home and family at one time in his life
But economic hardship had cost his home and wife.

He approached the bench so tremblingly and nuzzled at the ragged knee
The bum looked down and seen the scrawny little hound
The silent eyes that held such plea.
Silently they questioned
Could you possibly love me?

Long moments passed as each seen the mirror of heartache in the other
The bum cleared his throat and tried a sob to smother.
Reluctantly his hand reached out to stroke a shaggy head
And love sprang up in hearts which moments ago were dead.

The afore limp tail begin to wag as he gave a humble kiss
Upon the hand of the bum who the world would never miss.
A bond was formed with them that day that time would not erase
Each had found a hope and love that they could embrace.

Twas several years that passed on by when on one snowy day
Two silent forms were seen upon the bench wrapped in paper there they lay
One a bum and one a dog wrapped tight in cold embrace
But the strangest thing folks ever seen was the smile upon his face.

Police were called and bodies removed and the crowd cleared away
No one noticed in the clouds a angel and his stray.

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