Away Poem by Annia Rosa

Usually,
They ran away from me
Black, white, and in-between
They would turn their faces from me
Noses held high in the air,
Sniffing something that just wasn't there—
Or maybe it was; I'll never know—
They scamper away
Away, away
But they always come by
They always come feast
And then they scamper
Away, away
Until the next day

Then,
Walking along a less-traveled route,
I spotted her
Or him
Or it.

Neglecting having heard many a tale
Of fatal curiosity,
I padded forward
Cautiously
Then not
And soon I was upon her—or him—or it—
And the sharp eyes looked up
Looked up at mine for a moment
And the limbs did not move
The hair did not bristle
The nose did not upturn
The face did not flinch

Yet sat there was one
And stood there was I

And I walked away,
Away
Away