Fear.

During my regular morning walk, 

As the cool fog swirls,

And the dusk retreats,

I see a small dog.

A puppy, I think.

I step up to it,

Look into its eyes,

Adoring.

I pick it up,

And,

It looks back at me.

Apologetic.

A cute little puppy,

It sees into my soul,

The tarnish there,

It's eyes betray fear,

And then,

I realize,

That what I was scared of this morning,

Was not the dog, but the mirror of it's eyes.