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Cliff Perkins
Poems
Mar 22
My Dog and I
We walk, we stop
Looking, listening
No words pass between us
maybe one short whistle
if I choose a different path
than the one he started down
His head turns quickly, his ears alert
A deer, a bird, a squirrel?
We synchronously freeze, awaiting confirmation
A doe approaches-we are lucky
The wind is behind her
Amazing how close she gets
A moment of communion
Then she jerks her head
Flips her tail, is gone
Written by
Cliff Perkins
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