Orlando Belo (Derby, England)
That dog over there is called Petra,
she sits staring out of the window.
For a while now she’s been whining;
as though she’s filled with sorrow.
She’s probably waiting for her master,
because he often went out alone.
After two days she’s obediently waiting,
by the window of an empty home.
They say it’s six days since he left her
without a meal, a thought, or care,
but he never stepped out of the house,
he left her while he sat in the chair.
Comments about this poem (‘Petra’ by Orlando Belo )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings