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Speckled Pup MAG
The black spots on her fur
Were the fall days of my youth,
Leaves speckling the ground
In a seemingly endless magic
Of her little bark and my little voice,
And how neither were given much
consideration
Because our childhoods had just begun.
The sparkle of her eyes upon my return
Was the approach of my young adulthood,
Just as the disappearance of her
puppy breath
Was hers.
The heart-shaped pattern on her head
Was the aging one in my chest,
As it eventually faded to gray 'round
the ends
And became exhausted.
The fifteen years
Felt like fifteen minutes
And the pitter-patter of her paws
Down the hallway
Were the seconds
It took her to find me;
The seconds it took her to remind me
That I was just a three-year-old
Who had picked out her best friend
And lost her
In what seemed like the same breath.
The years
Months
Days
Minutes
And seconds
Are the little girl I was
And can never get back
As we grew up together
Just two pups
Who never thought their childhoods
Would end so soon.
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