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Jul 2018
A winter storm had dumped a foot
of wet and heavy slushy snow.
As the sidewalk does not clean itself
I dressed to face my winter foe.

I worked too hard, I worked too fast
as I shoveled out our walks and paths.
My heart was racing; I' was feeling done,
then a golden retriever came on the run.

"hey there good boy." I greeted the pup.
"A Saint Bernard would have been nice too!"
He sniffed then licked my ungloved hand.
"Somebody must be looking for you."

Just then I heard from down the block
a voice called "Rascal" and the dog's head turned.
It clearly was his master's voice
"He's over here" I replied in turn.

His owner was a kindly older man
glad to retrieve his pet unharmed.
He'd gotten out to play in the snow
someone had left the gate not closed.

Rascal offered me his paw
and looked at me with deep brown eyes
We shook, then he accepted his leash
Rascal and his masterΒ Β then headed home.

I never saw Rascal again
or meet his master on the street.
We met just that once on a snowy eve.
The memory isΒ Β all that I got to keep.

I'd often heard my mother say
that we oft meet angels in disguise
I can't say for certain this was such a case.
I have no proof for the worldly wise.
John F McCullagh
Written by
John F McCullagh  63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)   
452
   Nikita
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