Crime

Crime Poem

Sunday night the dogs escape to the wood.

baseball bat in the back, radio sings loud,

fingers burning fear warnings of childhood,

hours hunting, spy a tail in a cloud.

The trail ahead blocked by granite boulders.

Mountain lion serial murderer,

lurks hidden evil over my shoulder,

in the dark ahead is a torturer.

Flashlight fires courage with each imprint.

Upon the sagebrush the injured dog rests,

not a whimper when my shirt makes a splint,

carry back to the car without protests.

Wound appears to be torn by barbed wire.

Three in the morning, where may find a Vet?

Bottled club soda and Betadine dire,

carry an eighty pound dog works a sweat.

Dixie doesn't cry as I unload her 

my arms wrap as I whisper, "found help."

Techs run with a stretcher as we enter

in their hands a muzzle to stop a yelp.

Carmel eyes gaze touching my heart in trust.

"I'll hold her head, she's a gentle lady."

Shave, clean, and xray reveals what it must,

the dog's been shot by evil upper crust.

Spot in hell for a man who tries to kill.

Easy to recover from lack of sleep.

This story is not ended I know it will

Find this criminal, a promise I keep.

Caroline Gerardo copyright May 9, 2018

This poem is a true story