Last May, 2021, I wrote this poem
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Bella (who bit the other dog)
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She tracks in dogshit from the blight
Of our filthy yard outside. I’ve
One thing fair to say for her: bright
Gleam her eyes beneath that stale hive
Of matted, tangled fur, a sight
Which heaven can scarce but leave alive.
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One snarl the more, one tooth or less
Hath half impaled the separate beast
Who dared to touch her kibbled mess
Or stole her master’s pizza feast;
While thoughts serenely beg caress
How pure her kennel cage at least.
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And on that snout, and o’er that brow
So fierce, so wild, yet eloquent,
The smile that wins, the wags that grow
To tell of days in lock down spent.
A dog that begs from far below,
A bite whose love is innocent!.
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.With a pat on the head for Lord Byron.
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