Grace

Every night I go to bed and read
And she is there, seemingly uncomfortable but dreaming and breathing
Waiting for me to make a move or sound
Hanging on the words “Grace”
“Hungry?”
“Outside!”
Every night when I sit and read
She’s there, warming my feet with the heat of her bones
A mixed bag potion of love
Concealed inside the yellow fur of a Labrador dog
More human than human
“Sit.”
“Stay.”
“Good girl!”

M.

Poetry

Mandy Joy Poole View All →

Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.

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