Fur bounds, through the cottony breeze, to me.
On a warm, summery day,
the scent of dog resounds.
A wet nose, commiserate smile and hug.
Against my skin, he reclines.
I’m always home with him.
His eyes, see not, purple flowers blooming;
not intuitive of hue;
but bud’s loyal as bees.
My shoulder’s bare, does he know skin, or care?
He stays very close to...
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