The Shadow of Dog

i can feel the shadow of dog
the quiet looming of dread 
in the hint of a breath
on the back of my neck
but nothing is there when i look

i can feel the shadow of dog
as days become short
the soft click of their paws
on foundational floors
are felt by my unhearing ears

i can feel the shadow of dog
in the scent of the chill
as the autumn leaves fell
from tired trees 
that no longer care

i can feel the shadow of dog
i know that it's here
but what colour they are
when i open the door
is a choice i make once again

©ceenoa

SOD #7

I haven’t done one of these for ages, so here we go.

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After the End of The World Apocalypse (when those remaining realised the world hadn’t actually ended for them), the trend of the day was to have travel backpacks made from the skin of your closest “previously-loved-in-real-life” zombie. Of course, to achieve the pinnacle of fashion you had to have “inhumed” them yourself.

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If you want to find out what SOD really means – read this post