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Oct 2013
I watch close
The face of a sleeping dog,
Its eyes crescent moons
In those times blissful
When sleep runs it down
In respiteful shelter
From fleas
Hot concrete
And from men!

I wonder
What comes in its dreams,
A rusted bone
Loving eyes
Caressing hands
Or the pain
Suffered in the hands of men!
Pradip Chattopadhyay
  599
   r, Sally A Bayan, victoria, J R, --- and 10 others
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