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Buddy

I sat down in the grass,
and stared at the swaying daffodils,
watched the bees dancing around the
magnolia petals, heard the gentle rush of cars
from the unseen highway.

I felt Buddy’s cold nose against my
leg, and I put my arm around
his thick neck, his mane of orange fur.
I looked at him and he looked at me
with the innocent eyes of
an infant, and yet he seemed
as though he was a hundred years old.

He pressed his warm snout
against my cheek and I smiled.
“Wanna talk, boy?”
I mused, and he stared back at me
with his kind eyes. He nudged me again,
as if he was letting me know
I could tell him anything,
and he would keep it
a secret
as long as he lived.




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