It’s been a week now and still each
day I see you on the side of the highway
serving as a small, black line
connecting Kansas to Missouri.
Bits of your hair are frozen and reflective
against the rising sun. I pass your crushed bones,
asphalt gripping claws and black ears,
that ripple in the wind of passing cars.
I tell myself your family came
and gently took your body home and buried
you beneath a sycamore. And, you weren’t drug
away by teeth sunken deep in the folds
of your neck and torn apart leaving nothing
but a smeared trail of what you used to be.
~ Julie Ramon
Julie Ramon is an English instructor, specializing in English as a second language, at Pittsburg State University in Kansas. She graduated with an M.F.A from Spalding University in Louisville, Kentucky. Her poems “Making Tamales” and “Making Tortillas” were recently published in the literary food magazine, Graze. She enjoys baking and selling cakes from home on weekends. She lives in Joplin, Missouri with her husband and son.
Cody Shrum holds both a B.A. and M.A. in Creative Writing from Pittsburg State University with an emphasis in fiction. However, his poetry has appeared in velvet-tail and Kansas Time + Place online literary magazines. Cody plans to pursue his MFA degree in fiction next fall—an adventure he will embark on with his wife, Kylee, and their two dogs, Zoey and Zeus.
One thought on “Dead Dog by Julie Ramon”
Julie–This poem touched me. I drive on the Kansas Turnpike often and see the scene you describe so many times it breaks my heart. One day, I was able to rescue a little dog who was running lose on the turnpike. We call her our miracle dog. This is a wonderful poem.