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November 29, 2022

 

My Pup

 

Milo was lying on the floor, just now, sleeping

our coffee-brown buddy resting among his pack

every now and again his tail would slowly wag

no dancing paws, no half aware bark, just his tail

wagging, like a doggys tail wags in doggish joy

yet neither he nor Beth or I know the reason why

 


My Pup

A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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