There he sits at the gate
remembering luscious puppyhood
here in this garden
– How it’s changed!
As he set off from home
his nose following a familial scent trail
hard right then hard left then hard right
and down and around and up
– How it’s changed!
There’s a gate to bar his way.
He whimpers as only she will hear,
his full yearning pouching in it
Wildly she shrieks and claws
at the glass door barring her way
as if 2 years and some had not passed
– How it’s changed!
But mother’s lick of approval is still at the ready
her whole-dog devotion to her offspring
its simple selflessness on tap
The gift of the dog to live so presently.
To remember the good.
To love and be loved.
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