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Of a Boy and His Dog in a Storm.

Over the horizon,
dark clouds
show themselves,

breaking the sky
with mesmerizing

and as they creep
towards him, closing
in, he sits
on the porch

beside his dog,
his only friend.

Never will
he run again.
Bring it on.
No use postponing
the inevitable.

Cover him, shade
him, strike him down
just to watch
him rise

again, his companion,
in unwavering loyalty,
standing by his side
through the rain,

despite the hell, burned
and cold, soaked
to the bone they plow
on: he plows on:

all that he accepts
of himself,
all that he disowns.


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