Dog in the Rain
I'm that dog sitting in the rain over his best friend's grave.
I've waited fifteen years for your spirit to brush against my spirit.
I believe some brown-thumbed clod pruned your heart.
Cut too often- too deeply with a blade of insensitivity.
Honed his cruelty on your vulnerabilities.
Made himself a shrine from your broken pieces.
Tossed you to the darkness, cleaved your light.
Then offered you a cool drink on the coldest night of your life.
I'm the dog in the rain waiting indefinitely.
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