She chatters loudly,
the woman who dresses her dog in red,
champs and chews the fat
with anyone who’ll listen,
about the state of the world
and her dog that doesn’t want to eat,
just sits and watches, never joining in.
Bored, she says,
and chews and chatters on and on.
Dog sits and watches,
things we cannot see,
looking left and right,
peering into the distance,
She turns to me as I pass,
eyes big, brown and full of wisdom.
It’s coming, they say, so I watch.
Sickness gnaws deep and undisturbed.
She waits for the end,
watches, for the ghost dog,
pale and determined,
undeflected by smells or sticks.
Coming for her,
on the edge on the field,