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Aug 2017
The stream leaves my eye as it threads
Between muddy arms,under swaying grass,
With darkened stones nestled snuggly in its bed
Stalked by a hound reflected in amber glass
Playfully raising front paws to fall and splash

Though she tired beneath the cloudless july sky
The hound did not enter the stream's embrace,
Her longing whimper and the streams cool reply
Still echo in my skull's subspace

What something held her tail I can't recall
But she tired and layed down to rest
In soft brush n' pleasant light n' long before sun fall
Shedding the vigor she had professed
She shut the light from her eyes and slumber soon commenced


Far from sight, the stream trickles on
And the hound snores at my feet,
The remnants of their meeting gone
But for those held in my seat
Wilkes Arnold
Written by
Wilkes Arnold  22/M/New England
(22/M/New England)   
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