Little Dog
Ekphrastic Challenge February 2024
This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for February 2024 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here.
Little Dog
The blacktop scorched in the summer sun
Roasting hot on your feet
I should have carried you in
But I thought you wouldn’t be scared
That you would behave this time
But something spooked you
Pulling back out of the collar
And I wasn’t fast enough to catch you
And you wouldn’t come to me as I called
Bolting out onto the road, crossing yellow lines
The car that tried to stop
Tires screeching, crumpled bumper
Blood stained asphalt
I held you limp in my arms
As I screamed
The vet bill as I tried to save you
But that evening
Shovel tip dug into soil
And I buried my little dog
Submitted under MRB
About the Creator
Rae Fairchild (MRB)
I love to write; putting pen to paper fills my heart and calms my soul!
Rae Fairchild is my pen name. (Because why not? Pseudonyms are cool!)
I do publish elsewhere under my real name, M.R.B.
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