Monday, August 27, 2012

tongue lulling, she hovers behind my legs as though I stand guard

after chasing each to their own mother
overrunning her own shadow
breaks engage, pack pedaling begins
the Dopt turns, makes a beeline for me
as though I could protector her

heads high, bodies tentatively ridgid
only mild concern with my shadow beast's approach, though cautious
with their mere mare motherly stare
the Dopt retreats, reengaging what she left behind
easing under the fence, belly dusting
she hovers behind my legs, goober
I told her not to go

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