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Sep 2012
She stands with dignity in the middle of the field
Perks her ears at the sound of my boots.
She swings her big head toward me and looks.
I whistle to her, knowing it will never work.
She will wait for me, but never come.
I approach her and slip the halter over her ears,
Kiss her nose.
I brush her graying mane, and try to pretend she is not old.
And she trots with pride and
Is not embarrassed when she trips.
Christy Pavoncello
Written by
Christy Pavoncello
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