The Black Dog

by Cooper Heilmann, staff writer

All my life it has followed me,
That dark, black shadow of a dog.
I’ve seen it
When I was seven,
then nine,
then ten and twelve,
and then again just today.
I’ve seen it
At the beach before it rains,
In the cemetery at dusk,
In the darkness of that pine forest,
In the empty house I left behind,
And in the faces of my friends gone by.

When I was little I believed it existed,
but then again, anyone would.
When you look back on your childhood years,
You think, “oh, how foolish I was,” and
“oh I remember that!” and
“It doesn’t actually exist”.
But it turns out I was right those years that passed,
When I was seven,
Nine,
Ten,
Twelve.
When I saw it
In the forest,
Alone at night,
As it disappeared over the hill,
And at the beach before the storm.
Now finally I stare it straight in the eyes;
Those cold, dark, beady eyes.
I stare it down as if it was an old friend,
Or an old enemy.
I stare into those dark, cold beady eyes that finally bring
The death of me.