Fleeing From Fleas
The fleas crawled… through… the dog’s hair,
Leaving nowhere to spare.
Specks of dark spots… hopping, jumping,
trailing along… seeking…something.
Tickles and itches, fleas slowly… nibbling… sucking
Draining… parasitic… salivating… oozing…not ducking.
With a voracious appetite-leeches! Parasites!
They bite again and again…oh crikes!
An obsession that infects the dog,
Flooding through like a bog.
The hair slowly falls off, bare, bald…crusty skin,
consumed by “forest fire” of fleas…all akin.
the gnawing, biting, licking
and incessant “cleaning” and kissing.
The dog is obsessed to “clean” or put closure
to the fleas, the scarred lesions, though for sure.
not a welcome sight for any, the “flea game” is over
“Bam! ” the fleas are evicted, pushed away into the clovers.
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Comments about this poem (Fleeing From Fleas by Danette Frenz )
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