Sara's Hand

September 23, 2012
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Sara’s hand

flutters at her waist


ever so slightly

The dogs lunge against their fences

Some are barking

Some are snarling

Rover and Lulu and Ace

They see her going on her walk

Everyday, ever since they remember

always at 11

The night is dark and nobody is around

But that’s just how she likes it

Sara is getting old

She can sense it but

so can the dogs

and she dreads her shriveled skin
Once beautiful and lush

First she passes Rover’s house

Just four more to go

Then she passes Lulu’s
A street light
illuminates the path
dancing on the concrete

Finally she passes Ace’s house

and there is nowhere else to go

So she turns around to head

And she smiles

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