Posted in Dogs, Poetry, Prose

Throw the Dog a Bone

To keep him
from scratching, disturbing
while I gazed into her eyes,
With her only existing
in my memory, smiling
Teeth freshly brushed,
the shine glaring me
and making the dog,
Better a photograph,
then a dog, howling her name
making me miss her
and how she used to
walk the dog,
while I daydreamed
of her



Just an American lost in Denmark. The past few weeks being back in the good old USA. It is like Aliens have taken over my mind, changing it from what I knew to what I know. It might be the heat, or it might be the influence of hearing English 24 hours a day, but whatever the cause, it is only temporary while dealing with this time and space.

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