Dreaming
Skippy
My
hands tangle in fishing line and wet
matted
dog hair, where I loosen
it
tightens elsewhere, Skippy quiet
shrinks
under my care. I grasp
a ball
of fluff, detritus and line
no
beating breathing dog. It grows dark
I turn
to see an unfurling tail,
darker
form than night,
she
runs through my dream and I call her
until
I wake standing in a wood alone.
1/3/14
1/13/14
mh
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