Dog is lagging yet
clear skies pale green leaves urge me
to linger longer.
Long walk in sunshine
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Dog is lagging yet
clear skies pale green leaves urge me
to linger longer.
Who will you be, and
from where? What will have brought you
here – mere chance or choice?
He tours in a case
like an aged Ken, “mint in box”
they’d say on eBay.
Rake leaves left over
from fall. Clean porch furniture.
Spring into action.
All around it, the
town is dead. Pity the poor
taken investors.
A romantic name
for a seagull poop splashed walk
among spray and rocks.
Where river meets lake
we stand as Toronto gleams
across the waters.
She curls around the
baby like a spiral shell
protecting its snail.
My weirdness is as
apparent in my kids as
streaks in a fake tan.
An adult blankie.
To take one from its owner
will make grown men cry.