Her
Flying through fields
Wind through her tousled ruby hair
Her eyes chocolates, gleaming in the sun
Melting me.
Others are chasing her
But she comes to me
Her gaze a perpetual hug,
As she jumps into my arms
Kissing my face,
Each one a blessing,
Each one a curse
That it doesn't last forever.
She’s over by the trees now
Weaving in and out, wandering, searching.
Then I see it, I grab the plastic bag,
and pick up the turd that she left there.
Copyright © Tom Harnett | Year Posted 2016
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