January 9, 2015

 

MaxMy Max-man

MAX! COME!

Utter bliss speeds toward me, a black bullet,
white snow lifting out of the rut he leaves behind.

Turns, races, slips into my waiting arms,
Hands buried deep in warm mitts,
reach out, arms embrace…

“Good job, Max…what a good job!”

His tongue lags, pink, and he seems to
smile,
proud,
and in anticipation of the next
BIG trick.

 

 

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